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I 


Cheerfully  he    stepped  with    his    burden    over   the    threshold  which    no 
woman's  foot  might  touch." 


EKKEHARD 

a  Cale  of  t])t  Centl^  Century 


JOSEPH  V.  VON  SCHEFFEL 

Translated    from   the    German    with    all  the 
Notes  op'  the    13 8th   Edition 

Volume  I. 


NEW  YORK:   46  East  14TH  Street 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 

BOSTON:    100  PuRCitASE  Street 


Copyright,  1895 
By  Thomas  Y.  Crowell  &  Company 


©nibfrsftD  Press 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


V.     I 


CONTENTS  TO   VOL.  I. 


Page 

Biographical  Sketch       vii 

The  Author's  Preface xxxi 

Chapter 

I.     Hadwig,  the  Duchess  of  Suabia     .    .  i 

II.    The  Disciples  of  St.  Gallus    ....  15 

III.      WlBORADA    ReCLUSA 33 

IV.     In  the  Monastery 54 

V.    Ekkehard's  Departure 80 

VI.    Moengal       loi 

VII.     Vergilius  on  the  PIoiientwiel     ...  119 

VIII.    Audifax 135 

IX.    The  Woman  of  the  Wood 152 

X.     Christmas 176 

XI.    The  Old  Man  of  the  Heidenhohle    .  196 

XII.    The  Approach  of  the  Huns    ....  218 

XIII.  IIeripald  and  his  Guests 242 

XIV.  The  Battle  with  the  Huns      ....  269 


NOTES 293 


447444 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH. 


Clio  had  no  more  tenderly  treasured  foster-child 
than  the  Alemannian  poet  Joseph  Victor  von  Schef- 
fel.  He  did  not,  it  is  true,  write  history,  but  he 
came  as  a  reconciling  mediator  between  History 
and  Romance,  and  by  the  magic  of  his  construc- 
tive imagination  called  into  life  and  beauty  a  whole 
world  of  forgotten  forms.  He  realized,  as  no  writer 
before  him  had  ever  realized,  that  human  nature  is 
ever  the  same  ;  and  he  therefore  clothed  these  forms 
with  recognizable  speech  and  modes  of  action. 

"  Ekkehard"  is  no  ahen,  stiff,  unnatural,  mediaeval 
monstrosity,  but  a  Hfe-drama  worked  out  with  hu- 
man beings,  thinking  natural  thoughts,  doing  natural 
deeds,  alive  with  real,  not  galvanized  life;  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  felt  to  be  true  to  its  epoch ;  and  this 
union  of  qualities  gives  it,  and  especially  gave  it 
when  it  first  appeared,  an  epoch-making  significance. 
It  founded  a  school  of  historic  fiction  in  Germany; 
but  by  a  strange  fate,  the  imitations,  or  rather  the 
offshoots,  of  this  great  romance,  are  better  known  to 
English-speaking  people  than  the  prototype. 


Viii  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

Scheffel  is  also  known  in  Germany,  and  even  more 
widely  known  as  the  poet  of  the  student.  His 
lyrico-epic  poem,  "  Der  Trompeter  von  Sakkingen," 
has  past  its  two-hundredth  edition :  it  has  been  twice 
dramatized  for  the  operatic  stage,  and  its  songs  are 
household  words  in  Germany.  The  formerly  named 
Bergsee,  near  Sakkingen,  has  been  re-named  Scheffel- 
see,  and  the  steamer  which  ploughs  its  blue  waters 
carries  about  on  its  counter  the  now-historic  appella- 
tion of  Hiddigeigei,  after  the  song-compeUing  cat. 
On  the  cliff  overlooking  the  lake  is  cut  an  inscription 
in  honor  of  the  poet,  and  the  whole  region,  as  well 
as  the  beautiful  shores  of  the  Bodensee,  are  redolent 
with  his  memory. 

The  various  lines  of  inheritance  and  environment 
which  united  their  strands,  and  by  a  correlation  of 
forces  produced  in  Von  Scheffel  the  impulse  to 
create  as  he  did,  are  unusually  clear,  and  are  inter- 
esting to  trace.  One  or  two  instances  must  here 
suffice. 

His  grandfather,  Magnus  Scheffel,  had  been  the 
last  Oberschaffner,  or  steward,  of  the  Benedictine 
Monastery  of  Gengenbach,  —  a  free  monastery  which 
was  situated  on  the  Black  Forest  possessions  of  the 
Abbey  of  S.  Gall.  The  founder  of  this  monastery 
was  S.  Fridolinus,  who  is  introduced  so  effectively 
into  "  Der  Trompeter."  Magnus  Scheffel  was  the 
nephew  of  the  last  abbd,  Bishop  Jakob.  The  story 
goes  that  he  obtained  his  place  by  means  of  a  witti- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  ix 

cism.  A  bishop  was  dining  at  the  monastery.  A 
servant  accidentally  spilt  a  trout  over  the  prelate's 
violet  robes.  Magnus  Scheffel  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter,  and  pacified  the  angry  bishop  by  saying, 
"  I  have  seen  much  that  was  good  and  beautiful,  but 
never  before  an  imperial  prelate  in  trout  sauce  ! " 
The  legend  runs  that  the  bishop,  as  a  reward  for  his 
originality,  made  him  head  steward. 

After  the  monastery  was  secularized,  in  1803, 
Magnus  Scheffel  entered  the  Baden  civil  service  as 
steward  of  ducal  domains,  and  with  the  title  of  "  Herr 
Amtskeller."  He  was  pensioned  in  1809,  and  died 
in  1836.  His  grandson  remembered  him  well,  and  it 
is  quite  possible  that  he  inherited  something  of  the 
old  steward's  ready  wit. 

Von  Scheffel's  maternal  grandmother,  Frau  Kre- 
derer,  was  born  at  Rielasingen,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Hohentwiel.  She  also  was  full  of  witty  sayings,  and 
was  altogether  a  remarkable  woman,  having  charge 
of  the  Scheffel  household  for  many  years. 

Scheffel's  father,  Philip  Jakob  Scheffel,  was  an 
engineer,  and  bore  the  title  of  Captain,  as  well  as 
that  of  Oberbaiirat^  —  his  duties  in  connection  with 
road-and-bridge-building  compelling  him,  for  up- 
wards of  thirty  years,  to  visit  all  parts  of  Baden, 
especially  the  Highlands.  In  1824  he  married  Frau- 
lein  Josephine  Krederer,  the  orphaned  daughter  of  a 
well-to-do  merchant,  whose  home  in  Oberndorf  was 
interesting  as  a  former  nobleman's  domain,  and  tradi- 


X  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

tionally  a  Burgfriede^  or  "  place  of  asylum ; ''  more- 
over, an  ancestor  of  her  family,  Balthasar  Krederer, 
was  held  in  honor  as  Burgh auptmann  of  the  once 
splendid  castle  of  Kiissaburg,  the  stately  remains  of 
which  are  seen  on  a  cliff  not  far  from  Schaffhausen, 
overlooking  the  rushing  Rhine.  Frau  Scheffel  was 
distinguished  not  only  for  her  beauty,  but  also  for 
her  lively  imagination,  bright  cheery  wit,  and  a  good 
deal  of  poetic  ability,  which  were  manifested  in  her 
published  writings.  A  comedy  of  hers  called  "  Lorle 
und  Dorle,"  in  Suabian  dialect,  was  performed  in 
the  Karlsruhe  theatre,  and  also  at  Heidelberg,  and 
was  flatteringly  received.  From  his  mother,  then,  as 
has  been  the  case  with  so  many  distinguished  men, 
Von  Scheffel  inherited  the  pecuUar  bloom  of  his 
genius.  He  himself  attributed  his  poetical  art  to  his 
mother,  and  not  to  his  life  :  "  My  life,''  he  said,  "  has 
passed  simply.  You  must  have  known  my  mother : 
whatever  poetr)- 1  have  in  me  I  got  from  her."  His 
father  was  gifted  and  honorable,  stern,  orderly,  and 
obstinate,  —  a  genuine  example  of  a  true  German  ofifi- 
cial.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that,  as  a  member  of 
the  Commission  for  Regulating  the  Course  of  the 
Rhine,  he  was  compelled  to  make  a  practical  study 
of  the  great  stream  to  whose  glory  his  son  after- 
wards, says  Prolss,  by  his  poetry  added  new  lustre. 
He  published  a  pamphlet  on  the  subject,  and  also 
wrote  a  life  of  General  Tulla. 

In  spite  of  the  natural  conflict  which  such  a  man 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH.  XI 

was  infallibly  destined  to  meet  with  in  such  a  son, 
Von  Scheffel  owed  much  to  him,  —  his  enthusiasm 
for  a  united  Germany,  which  had  led  him,  in  1814, 
1815,  toenUst  in  the  war  with  France,  and  brought 
him  a  medal  for  bravery  before  Strassburg  ;  and  still 
more  his  deep  love  for  that  Alemannian  land  which 
bore  such  rich  fruits  in  the  son.  From  his  father 
Von  Scheffel  inherited  a  talent  for  drawing;  and 
with  it  also  a  still  further  impulse  to  come  into  con- 
flict with  paternal  authority. 

The  poet  was  born  at  Karlsruhe  on  the  i6th  of 
February,  1826,  in  the  three-story  dwelling-house, 
No.  25  Steinstrasse.  Shortly  after  Captain  Scheffel 
bought  —  apparently  with  his  wife's  money  —  a 
handsome  mansion,  standing  in  ample  grounds  on 
Stefanenstrasse,  one  of  the  best  streets  of  the  city. 
There  were  two  other  children  born  to  the  Scheffel 
family:  Marie,  —  a  beautiful  and  gifted  girl,  whose 
early  death  cast  a  life-long  gloom  over  the  poet's 
soul,  —  and  a  younger  brother,  physically  and  men- 
tally a  weakling. 

At  school  the  boy  found  little  help  toward  mental 
culture.  The  Karlsruhe  Lyceum  was  a  dry-as-dust 
institution,  paying  more  attention  to  mere  facts  and 
dates  than  to  the  deeper  things  of  life.  Neverthe- 
less, he  there  gained  a  thorough  training  in  the  classi- 
cal languages.  Joseph  Victor  was  regarded  as  a 
pattern  scholar.  He  learned  easily,  and  therefore 
had  time  to  spare,  and  this  time  he  spent  in  his  fav- 


xii  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

orite  occupation  of  drawing.  His  appearance  is  thus 
described  by  one  of  his  fellow  students :  — 

"  He  had  long  light  yellow  hair,  and  small  delicate 
features,  — rather  girlish  in  fact  ;  so  much  so,  even  at 
the  university,  that  once,  when  he  dressed  himself  up 
as  a  waitress,  none  of  his  friends  recognized  him 
until  he  drained  a  Schoppen  in  his  own  peculiar  way." 

In  1843  he  went  to  the  University  of  Munich, 
where,  according  to  his  father's  wish,  he  enrolled 
among  the  students  of  law.  His  second  year  he 
studied  at  Heidelberg,  and  he  began  to  take  more 
interest  in  the  Weinschiuel^^cnium,  —  the  wine-swilling 
student  life,  —  of  which  he  became  poet-laureate,  than 
in  the  dry  lore  of  the  law.  It  was  a  city  of  jolly 
fellows,  many  of  them  old  Suabian  friends  ;  in  his 
special  club,  "  Alemannia,"  there  were  quickly  en- 
rolled forty  members.  Here  he  found  stimulus 
to  write  the  wonderfully  popular  student-  and  drink- 
ing-songs which  are  the  delight  of  the  German  youth. 
His  third  year  he  spent  in  Berlin,  and  seems  to  have 
studied  there  more  diligently;  but  in  1847  he  was 
back  in  Heidelberg  again,  and  taking  part  in  the  wild 
gayeties  of  the  students :  his  parents  began  to  won- 
der what  was  to  be  the  outcome  of  it  all.  Warning 
letters  were  sent  to  him,  but  to  little  avail. 

One  day  he  had  been  to  a  "  Kneipe,"  or  Beerhouse, 
in  the  suburbs,  and  was  returning  to  town  with  his 
rollicking  companions.  His  father  stepped  off  the 
same  train:   "It  was  a  depressing  meeting  for  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  XI 11 

old  gentleman,"  said  Scheffel.  A  few  days  later  his 
father's  servant  appeared,  and  said  laconically  :  — 

"  I  am  come  to  help  you  pack  up." 

The  poet,  with  characteristic  philosophy,  acqui- 
esced, and  put  the  episode  into  a  jolly  parody, 
beginning,  — 

O  Heidelberg^  o  Heidelberg^ 
Du  wunderschones  Nest,  — 

whereof  two  or  three  of  the  stanzas  may  be  ren- 
dered :  — 

My  father,  my  father 

Seized  paper  and  a  pen :  — 
**  My  son,  take  off  your  student  cap 

And  come  right  home  again. 

"  Upstairs  here,  upstairs  here, 

There  is  a  chamber  small  / 
'  T  is  there  that  yon  must  sticdy 
•  In  books  both  short  and  tally 

My  mother,  her  tears  flowsd :  — 

"  O//,  hasten  home,  iny  child; 
Yoic ''  re  getting  into  mischief 

With  all  those  students  ■wild.'''' 

I  wept  and  begged  and  pleaded. 

But  all  to  no  avail ; 
And  so  good-bye^  Frankonians, 

Good-bye,  ye  Freshmen  hale  ! 

At  home  he  devoted  himself  laudably  to  the  dry 
study  of  Roman  law,  but  consoled  himself  by  hiding 
the  poems  of  old  Hafiz  behind  his  folios  ;  and  his 
poetic  impulse  was  aroused  also  by  new  acquaintance 


XIV  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

with  Shakespeare,  and  he  with  other  gay  young  men 
formed  a  Falsta£f-Club,  in  which  he  bore  the  desig- 
nation of  Pistol. 

Even  before  this  time  the  young  student  had  been 
desperately  in  love  with  a  cousin,  Emma  Heine,  the 
daughter  of  a  prosperous  apothecary.  She  was 
finishing  her  education  in  Karlsruhe,  and  he  saw 
much  of  her  ;  but  she  was  unwilling  to  wait  for  him, 
and  married  a  young  business  man.  It  was  in 
memory  of  her  that  he  wrote  his  most  admired  song, 
the  twelfth  in  "Young  Werner's  Songs,"  in  "  Der 
Trompeter,"  each  verse  of  which  ends  with  the 
refrain,  — 

Behuet  dich  Goit  !  es  war''  zii  schon  gewesen, 
Bchiiet  dich^Goti  !  es  hat  nicht  sollen  sem,  — 

which  throbs  with  the  pathos  of  disappointed  love. 
Under  his  father's  roof  he  prepared  for  the  public 
legal  examination,  which  he  passed  with  credit,  and 
immediately  began  his  duties  as  a  practitioner.  At 
the  beginning  of  1850  he  went  as  Docto?' Juris  and 
Amtsrevisor  to  Sakkingen,  a  little  Black  Forest  town 
with  all  manner  of  mediaeval  memories,  with  its 
Rhine-mirrored  Church  of  S.  Fridolin  enshrining  the 
bones  of  the  founder,  with  its  ancient  monastery  and 
nunnery,  —  so  celebrated  during  tlie  Middle  Ages, 
when  members  of  noble  and  even  royal  families 
were  educated  there,  —  with  its  quaint  population, 
centuries  behind  the  rest  of  the  world.  While  there 
engaged  in  his  official  duties,  he  unconsciously  was 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  XV 

laying  the  foundations  for  the  poem  which  made  the 
"town  famous. 

But  his  heart  was  not  in  the  law  ;  his  home  letters 
give  delightful  pictures  of  his  daily  life,  and  if  there 
were  space  it  would  be  interesting  to  quote  the  one 
which  describes  his  visit  to  a  neighboring  village  in 
search  of  possible  pretty  cousins,  but  diverted  by 
meeting  with  a  former  Berlin  companion,  with  whom 
he  engaged  in  a  drinking-bout  that  has  become  his- 
toric. ■  In  July  he  took  a  vacation,  and  visited  Switz- 
erland, writing  amusing  letters,  many  of  which  are 
preserved. 

In  the  following  March,  Dr.  Scheffel  suffered 
arrest  for  being  engaged  in  some  rather  noisy  gather- 
ing, and  as  the  arrest  was  wholly  illegal,  he  felt  com- 
pelled to  challenge  the  military  captain  who  had 
ordered  it.  The  affair  got  wind,  and  came  to  Schef- 
fel's  father,  who  appealed  to  the  Baden  Ministry  of 
War,  and  amends  were  finally  made  to  the  young 
poet ;  but  although  the  affair  reads  like  an  act  in  a 
comic  opera,  it  left  a  very  disagreeable  impression 
on  his  mind,  and  only  hastened  his  ultimate  release 
from  the  chains  of  the  law. 

Meantime  his  stay  in  Sakkingen,  and  especially 
his  contact  with  the  primitive  Alemannian  people, 
known  as  Holzenwiilder,  or  Hauensteiner,  who  were 
in  every  respect  —  dialect,  thought,  and  dress  —  a 
relic  of  the  Middle  Ages,  began  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion to   archaeology,  and  he  wrote  his  first  literary 


xvi  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 

work,  "  Aus  dem  Hauensteiner  Schwarzwald,''  which 
appeared  two  years  later.  He  also  exercised  his  art 
of  painting  in  this  wonderfully  picturesque  region. 
He  and  his  sister  Marie  made  many  sketches  of  the 
beautiful  "  Strohlbrusch  "  cascade  and  other  land- 
scapes "  in  the  Forest.'' 

The  temptations  of  art  were  too  strong  for  him 
to  resist  longer  :  he  rebelled  against  the  bureaucratic 
spirit  of  his  office,  and  at  last,  in  September,  1851, 
he  broke  the  bonds  and  flew  away.  First  he  visited 
the  Graubiindner  Alps,  "  where  only  the  marmot 
whistles  in  the  crevices,  and  the  chamois  skips  over 
immeasurable  snow-fields  and  glaciers."  Here  he 
began  those  "  Pictures  of  Travel  "  ("  Reisebilder  ") 
which  were  published  in  an  Augsburg  journal.  His 
friend  and  companion.  Professor  Hausser,  wrote 
some  of  the  letters,  but  Scheffel's  are  easily  distin- 
guishable by  their  peculiar  humor. 

In  May,  1852,  having  been  formally  released  from 
his  service,  he  started  for  Italy,  to  become,  as  he  sup- 
posed, a  painter.  In  fact,  he  began  earnest  study 
of  the  art  under  Ernsl  Willers  at  Rome ;  but  fate 
willed  otherwise.  Italy  caused  to  bloom  in  his  soul 
the  ever-ready  flowers  of  poesy.  In  spite  of  his 
enjoyment  of  art,  in  spite  of  his  intercourse  with 
a  brilliant  set  of  young  painters,  he  found  himself 
drawn  rather  to  the  sister  art,  and  his  first  great 
work  began  to  claim  him  :  "It  was  in  Rome,"  he 
says ;  "  heavy  lay  the  winter  on  the  seven-hilled  city, 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  xvil 

and  the  rain  was  never  done.  Then  arose  like  a 
dream  the  Schwarzwald  before  my  eyes,  and  the 
story  of  the  young  Spielmann  Werner  and  the  beau- 
teous Margaretha.  .  .  .  Now  like  a  man  whose  ear 
suddenly  rings,  as  a  sign  that  they  at  home  are 
thinking  of  him,  so  I  heard  sounding  ttie  peal  of 
Werner's  trumpet  through  the  Roman  winter,  through 
the  flower  sport  of  the  Carnival.  Far  distant  at 
first  it  rang,  then  near  and  nearer."  And  at  last 
the  songs  took  shape  in  this  inimitable  poem,  "  Der 
Trompeter  von  Sakkingen."  It  was  finished  in 
April,  1853,  on  the  Island  of  Capri.  In  this  is  to  be 
read  much  that  is  autobiographical,  especially  in 
those  cantos  where  the  scene  of  the  poem  is  trans- 
ferred to  Rome. 

He  was  called  home  by  the  illness  of  his  beloved 
sister  Marie,  who  had  just  broken  her  engagement 
to  a  young  officer  greatly  respected  by  her  parents 
but  repugnant  to  her.  Scheffel's  father  saw  in  his 
son's  failure  to  make  the  most  of  his  opportunities 
as  a  painter  fresh  proofs  of  his  unworthiness,  and 
the  situation  became  very  trying.  He  wrote  to  his 
friend  Schwanitz :  — 

"  I  am  now  living  in  the  unendurable  position  of  a 
man  who  has  no  ground  under  my  feet.  I  will  not 
return  to  the  civil  service ;  I  am  too  old  to  be  a 
painter;  —  nothing  is  apparently  left  me  except  to 
be  a  Privatdozettt  and  Proletarier  at  Heidelberg. 
Tinie  may  bring  counsel.  ...  I  have  been  happy 
for  a  year,  and  I  will  console  myself  with  that." 
VOL.   \.  —  b 


xviii  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 

He  went  to  Heidelberg,  and  there,  under  the 
impulse  of  association  with  rollicking  friends,  who 
belonged  to  a  sort  of  club  called  "  Der  Engere," 
he  wrote  most  of  the  songs,  published  in  collected 
form  in  1868,  under  the  title  of  "Gaudeamus." 
Even  befofe  they  were  published,  they  were  spread 
on  the  wings  of  music  all  over  the  land.  They  had 
that  same  lyrical  spontaneity  and  freshness,  that 
same  brilliant  wit  which  flashed  and  glowed  in  the 
gems  of  "  Der  Trompeter."  They  are  the  very  folk- 
songs of  the  student  world. 

But  while  enjoying  these  lyrical  excursions,  his 
mind  was  bent  on  something  more  dominant.  He 
himself  tells  us  in  the  preface  to  "  Ekkehard  "  how 
he  was  led  to  write  that  historical  novel.  He  may 
have  had  his  friend  Paul  Heyse's  encouragement. 
He  found  his  materials  at  hand  in  the  university 
library;  but  also  he  was  under  the  spell  of  those 
scenes  which  he  pictured  in  such  living  colors.  In 
Februar}%  1855,  it  was  finished,  and  in  June  it  was 
published  by  Meidinger,  at  Frankfurt.  His  honora- 
rium was  1200  gulden. 

With  this  money  he  went  back  to  Italy,  in  com- 
pany with  his  friend  the  artist  Anselm  Feuerbach. 
At  Venice,  where  they  worked  together  in  spite  of 
the  heat  of  the  summer  and  the  danger  of  cholera, 
the  idea  arose  in  his  mind  of  writing  a  new  novel,  of 
which  the  heroine  was  to  be  Titian's  beautiful  pupil, 
Irene  di  Spilimbergo,  who  died  in  1559  at  the  early 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  xix 

age  of  twenty,  having  already  acquired  fame,  not 
only  as  a  painter  but  as  a  poet  and  a  musician. 

Both  of  the  young  men  were  worn  to  shadows; 
and  at  last,  in  August,  they  fled  to  Castell  Toblino, 
not  far  from  the  beautiful  Lago  di  Garda. 

Here  Scheffel  tried  to  conjure  into  deathless  form 
the  visions  which  had  haunted  him.  But  it  was 
in  vain.  That  mental  disease  which  cast  its  petri- 
fying gloom  over  his  life  had  already  begun  its  in- 
roads. He  wrote  a  few  new  "  Reisebilder,"  with  no 
special  thought  of  their  publication,  but  simply  for 
the  delectation  of  his  Heidelberg  club.  But  some 
of  his  friends  urged  him  to  publish  them,  and  they 
came  out  in  1856  in  the  Frankfurter  Museum^  under 
the  title,  "  Unter  den  Tridentinischen  Alpen;"  but 
they  were  never  finished,  in  spite  of  the  legend,  "  To 
be  continued."  And  neither  was  the  great  Venetian 
romance  ever  materiaHzed.  What  a  delightful  book 
it  would  have  been  could  Scheffel  have  communi- 
cated to  it  all  the  glow  and  life  of  his  early  enthusi- 
astic days  in  Italy ! 

His  illness  at  first  took  the  form  of  a  severe  in- 
flammation of  the  eyes,  and  he  found  himself  unable 
to  work  at  all.  Prolss  denies  that  his  illnesses  were 
in  any  way  the  result  of  his  dissipations  in  Heidel- 
berg, and  attributes  his  brain-sufferings  first  to  he- 
redity, and  secondly  to  the  peculiar  trials  which  bore 
heavily  on  his  mental  constitution.  His  physician 
confirmed  this  judgment,  saying,  "  Bier  and  wein  had 


XX  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it."  He  was  brought 
home  to  his  father's  house  in  a  wretched  condition 
mentally  and  physically.  And  life  there  also  had 
little  to  cheer  him.  The  fathers  health  was  failing, 
the  mother's  cheerful  nature  turned  to  sadness,  the 
lovely  sister  heartbroken.  '•  Oh,  if  you  knew  what 
we  have  gone  through,"  wrote  Frau  Scheffel  to  Arns- 
wald,  "  you  would  pity  us  !  " 

Even  after  the  pubhc  and  most  of  the  critics 
had  given  a  warm  reception  to  "Ekkehard,"  Major 
Scheffel  wrote  to  a  friend  expressing  his  fear  that 
Joseph  would  be  tempted  to  choose  literature  for  a 
profession.  Truly,  as  the  son  pathetically  said,  he 
had  endured  many  hard  hours  in  conflict  with  his 
father,  who  could  not  endure  to  see  him  out  of  a 
salary-secured  position  in  the  State's  service. 

The  poet's  health  began  slowly  to  improve;  but 
in  the  following  May,  1856,  in  what  he  calls  a  fit  of 
desperation,  he  took  a  journey  to  Southern  France, 
where  he  added  malaria  to  his  bodily  ailments.  The 
only  literary  results  of  the  journey  were  three  more 
brilliant,  vivid  "  Reisebilder,"  and  a  sketch  of  a 
novel  concerning  the  Albigenses  in  the  thirteenth 
century.  Felix  Dahn  read  a  chapter  of  it,  and  de- 
clared that  it  was  the  most  beautiful  and  absorbing 
of  all  Scheffel's  writings.  That  also  remained  a 
mere  torso. 

He  visited  Avignon,  the  French  home  of  the 
Popes,    Tarascon   (afterwards    famous    as    the    resi- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  xxi 

dence  of  the  great  Tartarin),  Aries,  Nice,  and  the 
Riviera.  At  Bordighiera  he  hung  between  Hfe  and 
death ;  but  even  then  the  pecuHar  irony  and  wit  of 
the  poet — that  perpetual  bright  companion  of  moody 
minds  —  did  not  fail  him ;  and  he  wrote  his  fascinat- 
ing poem,  "  Heimkehr,"  which,  as  mych  as  any  of 
his  verse,  allies  him  with  Heine. 

He  finally  returned  home  by  way  of  Genoa  and 
the  Gotthard,  stopping  also  for  a  brief  visit  at  Sak- 
kingen,  where  his  heart  was  warmed  by  the  friendli- 
ness of  his  reception. 

He  obtained  some  relief  at  the  lovely  Kniebisbad 
Rippoldsau  in  the  Black  Forest;  and  after  his  return 
in  September  he  decided  to  go  to  Miinich,  where  he 
was  invited  by  his  friend  Eisenhart,  private  secretary 
of  King  Max  II. 

He  was  to  be  one  of  the  editors  of  "  Bavaria,"  a 
work  in  which  the  king  took  the  keenest  interest. 
Here  he  found  a  wide  circle  of  brilliant  young  poets 
and  painters,  who  received  him  as  a  friend  and 
brother. 

Life  began  to  glow  before  him  again.  His  sister 
came  to  live  with  him  there.  She  was  the  very 
model  for  the  heroine  of  his  "  Venetian,"  which  he 
once  more  began  to  evolve.  She  was  a  fascinating 
creature,  "  slender  and  tall  as  a  Black  Forest  fir-tree ; 
beautiful,  with  splendid  golden-brown  coils  of  hair, 
and  heart-winning,  irresistible  charm  of  body  and 
soul ;  genuine,  profound,  poetical,  without  a  trace  of 


XXll  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

sentimentality;  full  of  rich,  piquant  humor,  of  in- 
comparable feeling,  and  friendliness  and  loveliness 
in  every  motion,  in  voice,  in  the  flashing  of  her  soul- 
ful dark-brown  eyes,  shaded  by  their  long  lashes." 
She  came  like  his  guardian  angel,  and  was  also  wel- 
comed into  tli#  glorious  circle  of  his  friends. 

Typhus  fever  broke  out  in  Miinich  in  February, 
and  the  lovely  sister  was  one  of  its  victims.  It  was 
a  blow  from  which  the  brother  never  recovered.  His 
mother  wrote  :  "  Oh,  and  poor  Joseph  —  in  her  he 
has  lost  his  sister,  his  friend  in  sickness  and  in 
health,  his  adviser,  his  best  comrade,  his  ideal  of  pure 
womanhood,  his  guardian  angel !  "  He  blamed  him- 
self for  the  catastrophe,  and  could  not  be  consoled. 
He  gave  up  all  his  Miinich  plans  and  returned  to 
live  with  his  parents.  His  little  tale  "  Hugideo," 
which  he  wrote  the  next  summer,  was  a  sort  of  me- 
morial of  his  beloved  lost  sister  and  friend. 

The  following  year  he  accepted,  for  a  year's  trial, 
the  position  of  ducal  librarian  at  Donaueschin- 
gen,  with  the  duty  of  ^rearranging  and  cataloguing 
the  273  MSS.  and  twelve  thousand  volumes,  at  a 
salary  of  eight  hundred  gulden.  And  almost  imme- 
diately after  he  had  thus  bound  himself  came  a  most 
pressing  invitation  from  the  Grand  Duke  of  Saxe- 
Weimar  to  make  his  home  at  the  splendid  castle  of 
the  Wartburg,  there  to  write  a  something  IVartburg- 
indssiges,  worthy  of  the  historic  place,  with  Walther 
von  der  Vogelvveide  and  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  XXIU 

as  the  heroes,  —  the  semi-historical  song  contest  of 
1208,  — a  fine  subject  for  the  antiquarian  poet.  He 
had  already  met  the  Grand  Duke  at  Miinich,  and  had 
enjoyed  a  short  visit  at  the  castle,  and  a  trip  through 
the  beautiful  Thuringian  region,  and  the  plan  of  the 
romance  was  filling  his  mind.  Here  again  Fate  was 
unkind;  this  work,  like  so  many  other  of  his  pro- 
jected masterpieces,  was  never  realized. 

In  spite  of  his  disappointment,  he  took  hold  of 
the  library  work  in  the  little  city  at  the  sources  of 
the  Danube — ad  fontes  Da?iubn  —  with  zeal,  and 
described  himself  as  burrowing  like  a  Hamster  in 
the  old  folios  and  parchments.  But  it  was  a  rather 
lonely  life  :  the  illness  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of 
Fiirstenberg  forbade  any  convivialities  at  court ;  but 
he  made  a  few  friends,  —  among  them  the  composer 
Kalliwoda,  —  and  helped  to  establish  a  litde  club 
called  "  Der  Heilige,"  at  which  his  easily  stimulated 
gayety  shone  brightly.  Some  of  his  letters  to  his 
Heidelberg  friends  show  him  to  have  recovered  a  fair 
measure  of  good  spirits.  Here  is  an  example  of  a  re- 
ply to  a  letter  of  inquiry  :  —  , 

*'y^rt^quesUon  i  :    Is  the  man  still  alive.'* 

Answer :    Yes,  but  weakly. 

.^^ question  2:    Can  he  write.'* 

Answer :    Yes,  but  weakly. 

Ad  question  3  :    How  does  it  go  with  him  ? 

Answer  :  As  with  Ovid  when  he  was  exiled  to  the 
Pontus.      Drinks  much  bier.      Makes   long   pedes- 


XX iv  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 

trian  excursions  into  Wutachthal,  Gauchachthal,  Bri- 
gachthal.  Discovers  Celtic  stone  walls  on  remote 
mountain  peaks.  Has  dealings  with  revisors  and 
audit-officers.  Is  fireman  in  the  city  fire-brigade, 
and  by  diploma  dated  March,  has  been  elected 
honorary  member  of  the  revived  Pegnesischer  Schd- 
ferordcn  of  Nuremberg. 

Ad  question  4:  Is  he  tormenting  himself  with 
plans  for  a  new  book  ? 

Answer:    Alas,  yes. 

^^ question  5  :    Will  it  be  out  soon? 

Answer:    Alas,  no." 

But  in  spite  of  these  gay  letters  he  was  suffering 
from  inward  loneliness,  and  his  tendency  to  melan- 
choly was  exaggerated ;  on  the  whole,  the  winter  at 
the  library  was  sad  and  gloomy. 

In  the  summer,  after  having  in  his  usual  laborious 
way  studied  all  sorts  of  authorities,  he  actually  be- 
gan the  Meistersinger  romance,  which  was  to  be  en- 
titled "  Viola ; "  but  a  spirit  of  wandering  came  over 
him,  and  he  travelled  quite  widely,  taking  part  in  the 
Jubilee  of  Jena  University,  sauntering  through  the 
old  cities  of  Belgium  and  even  visiting  Paris.  A  few 
beautiful  poems  only  mark  this  period  of  unrest ! 

The  sixth  question  in  the  letter  above  quoted  was: 
"  Is  he  in  love  ?  " 

It  is  said  that  Scheffel,  during  his  stay  at  Donau- 
esching,  found  himself  greatly  attracted  by  a  young 
lady  at  the  court,  and  his  personal  experiences  are 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  XX V 

believed  to  be  paralleled  in  his  "  Juniperus,  the  Story 
of  a  Crusader,"  which  was  printed  in  1868,  but  was 
at  first  intended  as  a  part  of  "  Viola." 

He  was  anxious  to  be  released  from  his  library  du- 
ties, but  the  Duke,  who  was  greatly  pleased  with  his 
diligent  labors,  desired  him  to  continue  them  ;  and 
it  was  not  until  April,  1859,  that  the  release  came. 
A  bitter  disappointment  in  regard  to  a  beautiful  girl 
in  Heidelberg  to  whom  he  offered  himself  had  also 
an  evil  effect  upon  him ;  yet  he  gives  in  a  letter  to 
Arnswald  a  serio-comic  description  of  his  discom- 
fiture :  how  he  had  taken  the  advance  fortifications, 
then  attacked  the  enemy,  but  had  been  driven  back, 
singed  with  Greek  fire  .  .  .  flung  into  the  ditch  sorely 
wounded,  —  now  retreating  with  drooping  colors,  with 
all  lost  except  his  honor  and  his  art. 

Apparently  there  was  some  mistake,  for  he  adds : 
"  Later  there  was  repentance,  for  it  is  my  fate  first 
to  be  scorned,  then  to  be  sought  after;  but  whoever 
has  once  said  'No'  to  Meister  Josephus,  finds  that 
the  said  Meister  Josephus  will  never  say  *  Yes '  in 
return,  not  even  if  all  the  bones  of  the  world  should 
break,  and  so  ends  that  episode  forever." 

In  May,  i860,  he  made  a  journey  to  Salzburg,  and 
the  Salzkammergut,  where  he  found  his  inspiration 
for  the  Bergpsalmen  which  were  published  ten  years 
later.  He  was  again  invited  to  the  Wartburg  to 
finish  the  book  the  promise  of  which  was  now  three 
years  unfulfilled,  but  he  was  obliged  again  to  decline. 


XXVI  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

A  morbid  state  of  mind  was  growing  upon  him,  lead- 
ing him  to  distrust  people  and  to  seek  solitude.  At 
the  same  time  his  feelings  were  deeply  hurt  by  the 
news  that  the  Heidelberg  girl  who  had  jilted  him 
was  engaged  to  another  man.  He  saw  also  in  the 
proceedings  of  the  Weimar  circle,  in  the  attitude  of 
Liszt  and  the  Princess  Wittgenstein,  even  in  the 
words  of  his  old  friend  Arnswald,  humiliating  neglect. 

In  November  his  mother  wrote  a  friend  that  his 
mental  disease  was  pitiable.  One  day  he  suddenly 
disappeared  from  home,  and  nothing  was  heard  of 
him  till  a  telegram  came  from  Switzerland  stating 
that  he  was  near  Basel,  seriously  ill  with  brain  fever. 
He  imagined  that  emissaries  of  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Weimar,  his  former  patron,  were  constantly  on  his 
track,  and  he  had  conceived  the  plan  of  becoming 
a  member  of  the  Carthusian  Monastery  in  Southern 
France.  ' 

Good  care  and  the  fortunate  arrival  of  a  letter  from 
the  Grand  Duke  assuring  him  of  his  good-will  had 
their  effect,  and  within  two  days  after  his  mother's 
arrival  she  was  able  to  write  that  Joseph  was  him- 
self again,  and  the  "  Tasso-fate  "  a  thing  of  the  past. 

The  promise  to  the  Duke  weighed  on  his  mind 
like  a  mountain,  and  only  when  he  was  formally 
released  from  it  did  anything  like  joy  return  to  his 
heart.  He  spent  half  a  year  in  a  Swiss  health-resort 
on  the  Hallwyler  See,  and  in  March,  1861,  was  able 
to  write portnui  hiveni,  —  "I  have  found  the  haven." 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  XXVli 

Shortly  after  his  return  home,  Meidlinger,  the 
pubhsher  of  "  Ekkehard,"  failed,  and  Otto  Janke 
purchased  the  copyright.  As  Scheffel,  out  of  friend- 
ship, had  given  it  to  Meidlinger  "for  a  song,"  and 
the  contract  was  to  be  binding  for  fifteen  years,  the 
change  of  ownership  was  a  disappointment  to  him ; 
and  in  order  to  recover  it  he  engaged  in  a  law-suit, 
which  dragged  along  till  1870,  when  the  contract 
came  to  its  natural  termination.  Then  "  Ekkehard" 
was  given  to  Bonz,  —  of  the  well-known  Metzler'sche 
Buchhandlung,  in  Stuttgart,  —  the  publisher  of  his 
other  works. 

The  historical  novel  was  never  finished,  but  in 
1863  he  prepared  for  the  press  a  collection  of  poems, 
many  of  which  had  been  prepared  for  "Viola."  It 
was  published  in  June,  1863,  under  the  title  "  Frau 
Aventiure."  He  was  especially  led  to  publish  it 
by  a.  harmless  report  which  had  appeared  in  the 
Koburger  Zeitung  referring  to  his  mental  trouble, 
and  which  had  incensed  him  to  such  a  degree  that 
he  sent  a  challenge  to  the  anonymous  writer. 

In  the  following  December  he  became  engaged  to 
Fraulein  Caroline  von  Malzen-Tillburg,  daughter  of 
the  Bavarian  minister  at  Karlsruhe.  The  wedding 
took  place  in  August,  and  the  poet  took  his  bride, 
by  way  of  the  Italian  lakes,  to  Seon  on  the  Hall- 
wyler  See,  where  they  established  themselves  in  a 
pretty  villa.  His  happiness  was  of  short  duration: 
first  his  mother  died  suddenly ;  then,  shortly  after  the 


XXV 111  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

birth  of  his  son  Viktor  in  May,  1867,  the  poet  and 
wife  separated.  Scheffel's  antipathy  to  all  conven- 
tional society,  his  extreme  irritability  and  quick 
temper,  his  inclination  to  loneliness,  his  peculiar 
mental  condition,  all  contributed  to  render  him  a 
trying  companion  to  a  sensitive  and  not  wholly  sym- 
pathetic woman.  "  An  estrangement,  a  coldness 
arose,"  said  Scheffel,  "  God  only  knows  how." 

Prolss  denies  that  Scheffel  was  a  deep  drinker,  in 
spite  of  the  reputation  that  he  had  earned  by  his 
convivial  poems.  These  were  brought  out  in  186S, 
and  won  the  greatest  popularity. 

There  is  little  more  to  tell  of  Scheffel's  life  except 
a  chronicle  of  pathetic  darkness,  occasionally  light- 
ened by  the  brilHant  flashes  of  his  ever-ready  wit, 
rendered  all  the  brighter  by  his  melancholy.  In 
1 87 1  he  acquired  a  piece  of  garden-land  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Constance,  near  Radolfzell,  where  he 
built  a  modest  villa,  and  there  spent  his  summers 
during  the  rest  of  his  hfe.  In  1876  he  bought  the 
neighboring  Mettnau,  on  which  he  built  a  stately 
tower  connected  with  the  fine  old  mansion.  His 
time  was  mainly  spent  in  superintending  the  educa- 
tion of  his  son.  He  regarded  his  poetic  career  as 
ended :  "  I  have  become  a  farmer,"  he  wrote,  "  and 
have  no  other  ambition." 

On  his  fiftieth  birthday,  in  1876,  the  whole  nation 
took  part  in  paying  him  honor:  he  was  made  honor- 
ary citizen  of  Vienna,  Gratz,  and  Prague ;  the  Grand 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  xxix 

Duke  of  Baden  raised  him  to  the  nobility ;  Prince 
Bismarck  sent  him  congratulations.  As  for  the 
"Von"  which  he  was  now  able  to  add  to  his  name, 
he  was  glad  for  his  son's  sake ;  he  had  himself 
written,  twenty-three  years  before, — 

He  who  is  ennobled  by  his  art 
Needs  no  such  useless  ornaments 

Ten  years  later,  when  Heidelberg  celebrated  its 
five-hundred  year  jubilee,  he,  its  poet  laureate,  was 
too  ill  to  take  delight  in  it ;  and  when,  on  his  sixtieth 
birthday,  the  old  castle  was  illuminated  in  his  honor 
and  the  tones  of  his  own  Rodenstein  songs  came 
floating  down  to  him,  he  stood  behind  his  closed 
window  shedding  bitter  tears.  A  little  latter,  on 
April  9,  1886,  at  seven  p.  m.,  he  died  in  Karlsruhe, 
after  terrible  sufferings. 

No  other  German  writer  has  excelled  Von  Schef- 
fel  in  popularity.  It  has  been  estimated  that  four 
hundred  thousand  copies  of  "  Ekkehard,"  "  Gaude- 
amus,"  and  "  Der  Trompeter,"  were  sold  before  his 
death.  Since  then  there  has  been  no  diminution  in 
the  popularity  of  his  works.  *'  Ekkehard  "  has  taken 
its  place  as  one  of  the  great  historical  novels  of  all 
time:  it  is  full  of  undying  beauty,  and  appeals  to 
readers  of  every  nationality.  Von  Scheffel,  the  poet 
of  the  little  Alemannian  land,  has  become  one  of  the 
world-poets. 

NATHAN   HASKELL   DOLE, 


THE   AUTHOR'S   PREFACE. 


This  book  was  written  in  the  firm  belief  that  neither 
history  nor  poetry  will  lose  anything  by  forming  a 
close  alliance  and  uniting  their  strength  by  working 
together. 

For  the  last  thirty  years  or  so  the  legacy  of  our 
ancestors  has  been  the  subject  of  universal  investi- 
gation. A  swarm  of  busy  moles  have  undermined 
the  ground  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  all  directions,  and 
produced  by  their  untiring  industry  such  a  quantity 
of  old  material  as  to  surprise  even  the  collectors 
themselves. 

A  whole  literature  beautiful  and  perfect  in  itself, 
an  abundance  of  monuments  of  the  plastic  art,  a 
well  organized  political  and  social  life,  lies  spread  out 
before  our  eyes.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  the  good 
work  expended  on  this  subject,  wider  circles  are  as 
yet  practically  unacquainted  with  the  pleasure  of 
this  historical  knowledge.  The  numberless  volumes 
stand  quietly  on  the  shelves  of  our  libraries.  Here 
and   there   prosperous  spiders  have  begun  to  spin 


xxxii  THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

their  cobwebs ;  and  the  pitiless,  all-covering  dust  has 
come  too :  so  that  it  is  hardly  improbable  that  all 
this  old  German  splendor,  but  just  conjured  back 
into  life,  may  one  morning  at  cock-crow  fade  away 
and  be  buried  in  the  dust  and  mouldering  rub- 
bish of  the  Past,  —  like  that  weird  cloister  by  the 
lake,  the  existence  of  which  is  betrayed  only  by 
the  faint  low  tinkle  of  the  bell,  deep,  deep  under 
the  waters. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  examine  how  far  this 
result  is  attributable  to  the  ways  and  methods  of 
our  learning. 

The  accumulation  of  antiquarian  lore,  as  well  as 
the  accumulation  of  gold,  may  become  a  passion, 
which  collects  and  scrapes  together  for  the  sake  and 
pleasure  of  acquisition,  quite  forgetting  that  the 
metal  which  has  been  won  needs  to  be  purified,  re- 
melted,  and  put  to  use.  For  otherwise  w^hat  do  we  at- 
tain by  it  ?  Perpetual  confinement  within  the  narrow 
limits  of  the  rough  material ;  an  equal  valuation  of 
the  unimportant  and  the  important ;  an  unwilling- 
ness ever  to  finish  and  conclude  anything,  because 
here  and  there  some  scrap  might  still  be  added 
which  would  lend  a  new  significance  to  the  subject  ; 
—  and,  finally,  a  literature  of  scholars  for  scholars, 
w^hich  the  majority  of  the  nation  pass  by  wuth  indif- 
ference, and  with  a  look  at  the  blue  sky  thank  their 
Creator  that  they  need  read  nothing  of  it. 

The  writer  of  this  book,  in  the  sunny  days  of  his 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE.        xxxiii 

youth  once  took  a  ramble  with  some  friends  through 
the  Roman  Campagna.  There  they  stumbled  on 
the  remains  of  an  old  monument,  and  among  other 
rubbish  and  fragments  there  lay,  half  hidden  by 
gray-green  acanthus  leaves,  a  heap  of  mosaic  stones 
which  had  formerly  been  a  fine  picture,  with  grace- 
ful ornaments,  adorning  the  pavement  of  the  tomb. 

A  lively  discussion  arose  as  to  what  all  the  dis- 
persed little  cubes  might  have  represented  when  they 
formed  one  piece.  One,  a  student  of  archaeology, 
took  up  some  of  the  pieces  to  examine  whether  they 
were  black  or  white  marble.  A  second,  who  tor- 
mented himself  with  historical  investigations,  talked 
very  learnedly  about  ancient  sepulchres  ;  —  mean- 
while a  third  had  quietly  sat  down  on  the  old  wall, 
taken  out  his  sketch-book,  and  depicted  a  fine  char- 
iot, with  four  prancing  steeds,  and  charioteers,  and 
around  it  some  handsome  Ionic  ornaments.  He 
had  discovered  in  a  corner  of  the  pavement  some 
insignificant  remains  of  tlie  old  picture,  —  horses'  feet 
and  fragments  of  a  chariot  wheel,  —  and  at  once  the 
whole  design  stood  clearly  before  his  mind,  and  he 
dashed  it  down  with  a  few  bold  strokes  while  the 
others  were  dealing  in  words  merely  .  .  . 

This  little  incident  may  serve  to  throw  some  light 
on  the  question  how  one  can  work  with  success  at 
the  historical  resurrection  of  the  Past.  Surely  this 
can  be  done  only  when  a  creative,  reproducing  ima- 
gination is  given  its  full  scope  ;  when  he  who  digs 

VOL.  I.  —  c 


XXXIV        THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

out  the  old  bodies  breathes  upon  them  the  breath  of 
a  living  soul,  so  that  they  may  rise  and  walk  about 
like  the  resuscitated  dead. 

In  this  sense  the  historical  novel  may  become 
what  epic  poetry  was  in  the  time  of  the  blooming 
youth  of  the  nations,  —  a  piece  of  national  histor\', 
in  the  conception  of  the  artist,  who  within  a  certain 
space  shows  us  a  series  of  distinctly  drawn,  clearly 
colored  figures,  in  whose  individual  lives  and  striv- 
ings and  sufferings  the  life  and  substance  of  the 
time  in  which  they  lived  is  reflected  as  in  a  mirror. 

Erected  on  the  basis  of  historical  studies  and 
embracing  the  beautiful  and  important  part  of  an 
epoch,  the  historical  novel  may  well  claim  to  be  the 
twin  brother  of  history  ;  and  those  who  with  a  shrug 
of  their  shoulders  incline  to  reject  it  as  the  produc- 
tion of  an  arbitrary  and  falsifying  caprice,  will  please 
to  remember  that  history  as  it  is  generally  written 
is  also  but  a  traditional  conglomeration  of  true  and 
false,  which  merely  by  its  greater  clumsiness  is  pre- 
vented from  filling  up  the  occasional  gaps  as  the 
more  graceful  poesy  can  do. 

Unless  all  signs  deceive  us,  our  present  time  is  in 
a  peculiar  state  of  transition. 

In  all  branches  of  knowledge  the  perception  is 
gaining  ground  how  unspeakably  our  thinking  and 
feeling  have  been  damaged  by  the  supremacy  of  the 
Abstract  and  of  Phraseology.  Here  and  there  we 
see   efforts  made  to  return   from  dry,  colorless  ab- 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE         XXXV 

stractions,  to  the  tangible,  living,  glowing  Concrete ; 
in  place  of  idle  self-contemplation,  close  relations 
with  life  and  the  present ;  in  place  of  hackneyed  for- 
mulas and  patterns,  analysis  of  nature  ;  and  in  place 
of  criticism,  creative  productivity  :  and  our  grand- 
children may  yet  live  to  see  the  day  when  people 
will  speak  of  many  a  former  colossus  of  science  with 
the  same  smiling  veneration  as  of  the  remains  of 
a  gigantic  antediluvian  animal ;  and  when  one  may 
avow,  without  fear  of  being  cried  down  as  a  barba- 
rian, that  in  a  jug  of  good  old  wine  there  is  as 
much  wisdom  as  in  many  a  voluminous  production 
of  dry  dialectics. 

To  the  restitution  of  a  serene,  candid,  poetic  view 
of  things  the  following  work  would  fain  contribute, 
and  that  by  taking  its  materials  out  of  our  German 
Past. 

Among  the  vast  collection  of  valuable  materials 
enclosed  in  the  big  folios  of  the  "  Momcmefita  Ger- 
7Ha7iicE  "  by  Pertz,  gleam  like  a  rosary  of  pearls  the 
chronicles  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Gall,  which  the 
monk  Ratpert  began,  and  Ekkehard  the  younger 
(called  also  the  fourth,  to  distinguish  him  from  three 
other  members  of  the  cloister  bearing  the  same 
name)  continued  till  the  end  of  the  tenth  century. 

Whoever  has  painfully  worked  through  the  unedi- 
fying,  dry-as-dust,  pettifogging  chronicles  of  other 
monasteries,  will  linger  over  these  notes  with  real 
pleasure  and  inward  delight.      There  one  finds,  in 


xxxvi        THE  AUTHOR'S  TREFACE 

spite  of  manifold  prejudices  and  awkwardnesses,  an 
abundance  of  graceful  and  interesting  tales  taken 
from  the  traditions  of  elder  contemporaries  and  from 
accounts  of  eye-witnesses.  Persons  and  events  are 
drawn  with  rough  but  distinct  lineaments,  while  a 
sort  of  unconscious  poetry-,  a  thoroughly  honest  and 
genuine  view  of  Hfe  and  the  world,  a  naive  freshness, 
puts  a  stamp  of  genuineness  on  everj-thing  that  is 
told,  —  even  if  persons  and  times  are  somewhat  friv- 
olously mixed  together,  and  tangible  anachronisms 
cause  not  the  slightest  uneasiness  to  the  chronicler. 

Quite  unintentionally  those  sketches  lead  one  far 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  cloister- walls,  paint- 
ing the  life  and  ways,  the  education  and  customs,  of 
the  Alema7tnic  country  *  as  it  then  was,  with  all  the 
fidelity  of  a  picture  painted  from  nature. 

It  was  a  pleasant  time  then  in  the  southwestern 
part  of  Germany,  and  every  one  who  prefers  a  vigorous 
and  healthy,  though  rough  and  imperfect,  strength  to 
a  certain  varnished  finish,  will  enjoy  it.  The  begin- 
nings of  Church  and  State  amid  a  common  people, 
rather  rough  but  good-natured;  the  feudal  spirit,  so 
pernicious  in  all  its  later  development,  but  harmless 
as  yet  in  its  first  stage  of  existence  ;  no  supercilious, 
overbearing  knighthood,  no  wanton,  ignorant  priest- 

*  The^/^;«««;z/Vland, or  Alcmanjiia ?is\t  was  then  called,  con- 
sisted of  part  of  the  present  Wiirtemberg,  Baden,  andLothringen  ; 
where  a  dialect  called  "  Aleinannisch  "  has  been  preserved  to 
the  present  day.     [Hebel  is  its  poet  laureate.] 


THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE      XXXVU 

hood  as  yet,  but  rough,  plain-spoken,  honest  fel- 
lows, whose  social  intercourse  frequently  consisted 
in  an  extended  system  of  verbal  and  real  injuries, 
but  who,  under  their  coarse  husk,  hid  an  excellent 
kernel;  susceptible  of  all  good  and  noble  things;, 
scholars  who  in  the  morning  translate  Aristotle  into 
German,  and  go  wolf-hunting  in  the  evening ;  noble 
ladies,  full  of  enthusiasm  for  the  old  classics ;  peas- 
ants in  whose  memory  the  old  heathen  beliefs  of 
their  forefathers  still  exist,  unimpaired  and  side  by 
side  with  the  new  creed,  —  everywhere  primitive  but 
vigorous  conditions  under  which  one  feels  inclined 
without  contempt  or  rationalistic  wrath  to  put  up 
even  with  sprites  and  hobgoblins. 

In  spite  of  political  discord  and  a  certain  indiffer- 
ence toward  the  empire,  of  which  Saxony  had  be- 
come the  central  point,  there  was  much  gallant, 
manly  courage  to  meet  misfortunes,  inspiring  even 
monks  in  their  cells  to  exchange  the  breviary  for  the 
sword  and  to  resist  the  Hungarian  invasion;  and 
although  there  was  abundant  opportunity^  for  relapsing 
into  barbarism,  still  there  was  serious  study,  together 
with  much  enthusiasm  for  the  classics,  in  the  monas- 
tery-schools, overflowing  with  zealous  disciples  ;  and 
the  humane  principles  taught  there  remind  one  of  the 
best  times  in  the  sixteenth  century.  The  plastic  arts 
were  beginning  to  show  some  signs  of  life,  —  occa- 
sional flashing  up  of  eminent  minds,  frank  pleasure 
in  poetry  amid  the  wilderness  of  learning,  a  cheerful 


XXXviii      THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

culture  of  national  history,  even  though  for  the  most 
part  dressed  up  in  outlandish  garb. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  author  of  this  book, 
when  making  other  researches  concerning  the  first 
stages  of  the  Middle  Ages,  chancing  to  meet  with 
those  chronicles,  felt  like  a  man  who,  after  long 
wanderings  through  a  barren,  unfertile  land,  comes 
suddenly  upon  a  comfortable  wayside  inn,  which, 
with  excellent  kitchen  and  cellar  and  a  lovely  view 
from  the  windows,  offers  all  that  heart  can  desire. 

So  he  began  to  settle  down  in  that  cosey  nook,  and, 
by  dihgently  exploring  the  surrounding  land,  to  gain 
the  best  possible  knowledge  of  the  country  and 
people  who  lived  in  it. 

But  the  poet  meets  with  a  peculiar  fate  when  try- 
ing to  acquaint  himself  with  the  Past.  Where  others, 
into  whose  veins  Nature  has  instilled  some  of  the  aqua 
fortis  of  learning,  eat  out  many  an  abstract  theory, 
and  a  quantity  of  instructive  deductions,  as  the 
result  of  their  labors,  to  him  appear  a  host  of  figures, 
at  first  surrounded  by  floating  mists,  but  gradually 
becoming  clearer  and  clearer;  and  they  look  at  him 
with  pleading  eyes,  dance  around  his  couch  in  mid- 
night hours,  and  always  whisper  to  him,  "  Put  us  into 
poetry." 

Thus  it  was  here.  Out  of  the  naive  Latin  lines  of 
those  monastery  tales  arose  the  towers  and  walls  of 
the  monastery  of  St.  Gall.  Scores  of  gray-headed, 
venerable  friars  wandered  up  and  down  in  the  an- 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE       XXXIX 

cient  corridors  ;  behind  the  old  manuscripts  sat  those 
who  had  once  written  them  ;  the  cloister-pupils  played 
merrily  in  the  courtyard ;  from  the  choir  rose  the 
midnight  chant,  and  from  the  tower  the  clear  sound 
of  the  watchman's  horn. 

But  clearer  than  all  oth^r  forms  stood  out  in 
dazzling  beauty  that  noble,  haughty  lady  who  carried 
off  the  handsome  young  master  from  the  quiet  and 
peace  of  the  cloister  of  St.  Gall  to  spend  a  season  in 
genial  study  of  the  classic  poets  in  her  rocky  castle 
overlooking  the  Bodensee.  The  simple  account  given 
by  the  chronicler  of  that  quiet  hfe  dedicated  to 
Vergil  is  in  itself  a  piece  of  poetry  as  beautiful  and 
genuine  as  can  be  found  anywhere. 

But  he  who  is  beset  by  such  apparitions  can  do 
naught  else  than  conjure  them  and  compel  them. 
And  I  had  not  read  in  vain  in  the  old  stories  how 
"  Notker  the  stutterer  "  once  treated  similar  visions  : 
he  took  a  strong  hazel  stick  and  belabored  the 
spectres  with  it  until  they  revealed  unto  him  their 
finest  songs.* 

And  so  I  also  took  to  my  special  weapon,  —  the 
steel  pen,  —  and  one  morning  said  good-bye  to  the 
old  folios  which  had  been  the  sources  of  all  these 
visionary  fancies,  and  I  t^etook  myself  to  the  ground 
which  had  once  been  trodden  by  the  Duchess  Hadwig 
and  her  contemporaries,  and  I  sat  in  the  venerable 

*  Ekkehardi  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,  c.  3,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
II.  q8. 


Xl  THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

library  of  S.  Gallus,  and  took  long  rows  in  my  little 
rocking  boat  over  the  Bodensee,  and  I  found  a  nest 
for  myself  under  the  old  linden-tree  that  overhangs 
the  precipice  of  the  Hohentvviel,  where  at  the  present 
time  a  worthy  Suabian  bailiff  has  charge  of  the  ruins 
of  the  ancient  fortress,  and  finally  I  climbed  the  airy 
Alpine  heights  of  the  Santis,  where  the  Wildkh'ch- 
lein  looks  down  like  an  eagle's  eyry  over  the  green 
valley  of  Appenzell.  There,  in  the  domain  of  the 
"  Suabian  Sea,""  mind  and  soul  filled  witli  the  life  of 
bygone  generations,  the  heart  refreshed  by  warm 
sunshine  and  spicy  mountain  air,  I  first  sketched 
and  then  completed  the  greater  part  of  this  story. 

That  not  much  has  been  said  therein  which  is  not 
founded  on  conscientious  historical  studies  can  be 
boldly  asserted,  though  persons  and  dates  have  some- 
times been  treated  with  some  freedom.  The  poet, 
in  order  to  enhance  the  inward  harmony  of  his  work, 
may  occasionally  take  liberties  which  would  be  most 
blameworthy  if  indulged  in  by  the  strict  historian. 
And  yet  the  incomparable  historian  Macaulay  him- 
self says:  "I  shall  cheerfully  bear  the  reproach  of 
having  descended  below  the  dignity  of  history  if 
I  can  succeed  in  placing  before  the  English  of 
the  nineteenth  century  a  true  picture  of  the  life  of 
their  ancestors." 

Following  the  advice  of  some  competent  friends, 
I  have  given  in  an  appendix  some  proofs  and  refer- 
ences to  the  authorities  from  which  I  have  taken  my 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE  xH 

materials,  in  order  to  satisfy  those  who  might  other- 
wise be  inclined  to  treat  the  subject  as  a  mere  fable 
or  idle  invention.  Those,  however,  who  do  not 
require  these  same  proofs  to  believe  in  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  matter,  are  requested  not  to  trouble  them- 
selves further  with  the  notes,  as  they  are  otherwise 
of  Httle  import,  and  would  be  quite  superfluous  if  this 
book  did  not  go  out  into  the  world  in  the  garb  of 
a  novel,  which  is  somewhat  open  to  the  suspicion  of 
playing  carelessly  with  facts  and  truths. 

The  attacks  of  the  critics  will  be  received  with 
perfect  imperturbability.  "  A  tale  of  the  tenth  cen- 
tury ? "  they  will  exclaim.  "  Who  rideth  so  late 
through  night  and  wind  ?  "  And  has  it  not  been 
printed  in  the  last  manual  of  our  national  literature, 
in  the  chapter  treating  of  the  national  novel :  — 

"  If  we  ask  which  epoch  in  German  history  might 
be  best  suited  to  combine  local  with  national  inter- 
ests, we  must  begin  by  excluding  the  Middle  Ages. 
Even  the  times  of  the  Hohenstaufen  can  be  treated 
only  in  a  lyrical  style,  as  all  efforts  in  other  direc- 
tions are  sure  to  turn  out  utter  failures."  * 

All  the  scruples  and  objections  of  those  who  prefer 
anatomizing  criticism  to  harmless  enjoyment,  and 
who  spread  all  their  canvas  trying  to  make  the 
German  spirit  sail  back  into  an  Alexandrine  or 
Byzantine  epoch,  have  already  been  well  answered 
by  a  literary  lady  of  the  tenth  century,  the  venerable 

*  Diisseldorfisch. 


xlii  THE   AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

nun  Hroswitha  of  Gandcrsheim.  In  the  happy  con- 
sciousness of  her  own  work  she  wrote  in  the  preface 
to  her  graceful  comedies  :  si  e?iint  alicui  placet  viea 
devotio,  gaiidebo.  si  aidetn  pro  ?nei  abiectione  vel 
pro  viciosi  sennoiiis  ritsticitate  7mlli  placet :  memet 
ipsam  tamen  iuvat  quod  feci.  In  Enghsh  :  "  If  any- 
body derive  pleasure  from  my  modest  productions, 
I  shall  be  glad  ;  but  if  on  account  of  my  self-ab- 
negation or  of  the  crudeness  of  an  imperfect  style  it 
please  no  one,  then  I  myself  shall  take  pleasure  in 
what  I  have  created." 

J.  V.  SCHEFFEL. 
Heidelberg,  February,  1855. 


EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER  I. 


HADWIG,    THE   DUCHESS    OF    SUABIA. 

It  was  almost  a  thousand  years  ago.  The  world 
knew  as  yet  nothing  of  gunpowder  or  the  art  of 
printing. 

Over  the  Hegau  there  hung  a  gloomy  leaden 
gray  sky,  corresponding  to  the  mental  darkness, 
which,  according  to  general  opinion^  oppressed  the 
whole  time  of  the  middle  ages.  From  the  lake  of 
Constance  white  mists  floated  over  the  meads,  cover- 
ing up  the  whole  country.  Even  the  tower  of  the 
new  church  at  Radolfszell  was  thickly  enveloped, 
but  the  matin-bell  had  rung  merrily  through  mist 
and  fog,  like  the  words  of  a  sensible  man  piercing 
the  cloudy  atmosphere  that  fools  create. 

It  is  a  lovely  part  of  Germany  which  lies  there, 
between  the  Black  Forest  and  the  Suabian  lake.  All 
those  who  are  not  too  strict  and  particular  with 
poetical  similes,  may  be  reminded  of  the  following 
words  of  the  poet :  — 

VOL.  I.  —  1 


2  EKKEHARD 

The  land  of  Alemannia,  its  mountains  white  with  snow, 

Its  crystal  lake  of  Constance,  a  deep  blue  eye  aglow, 

Its  yellow  locks,  the  tasselled  corn,  that  make  its  meadows  fair,  — 

Unto  an  honest  German  face  this  land  you  may  compare 

—  though  the  continuation  of  this  allegory  might 
tempt  one  to  celebrate  either  of  the  Hegau  moun- 
tains, as  the  nose  on  the  face  of  this  country. 

Sternly  the  summit  of  the  Hohentwiel,  with  its 
craggy  points  and  pinnacles,  rises  into  the  air.  Like 
monuments  of  the  stormy  Past  of  our  old  mother 
Earth  rise  those  steep  picturesque  mountain-pyramids 
from  the  plains  which  were  once  covered  by  tossing 
waves,  as  the  bed  of  the  present  lake  is  now.  For 
the  fish  and  the  water-fowl  it  must  have  been  a 
memorable  day  when  the  roaring  and  hissing  began 
in  the  depths  below  and  the  fiery  basaltic  masses, 
forcing  their  way  out  of  the  very  bowels  of  earth, 
rose  above  the  surface  of  the  waters. 

But  that  was  long,  long  ago.  The  grass  is  now 
growing  above  the  sufferings  of  those  who  were 
pitilessly  annihilated  in  that  mighty  revolution.  Only 
the  hills  are  there  still  to  tell  the  weird  tale.  There 
they  stand,  unconnected  with  their  neighbors;  soli- 
tary and  defiant  as  those  who,  with  fiery  glowing 
hearts,  break  through  the  bars  and  fetters  of  existing 
opinions,  must  always  be.  And  their  rocks  ring  as 
though  they  had  still  a  recollection  of  the  glorious 
time  of  their  youth,  when  they  for  the  first  time 
greeted  this  beautiful  upper  world. 

At  the  time  when  our  story  begins,  the  Hohen- 
twiel already  bore  towers  and  walls  —  a  strong  for- 
tress.    Here    had    dwelt    Herr  Burkhard,     duke  of 


HAD  WIG,    THE   DUCHESS   OF  SUABIA      3 

Suabia.  He  had  been  a  valiant  knight,  and  done 
many  a  good  day's  fighting  in  his  time.  The 
Emperor's  enemies  were  also  his,  and  so  there  was 
always  work  to  do.  If  everything  was  quiet  in 
Italy,  then  the  Normans  became  troublesome,  and 
when  these  were  fairly  subdued,  perhaps  the  Hunga- 
rian made  an  invasion,  or  some  bishop  grew  insolent 
or  some  count  refractory.  In  this  way  Herr  Burk- 
hard  had  spent  more  of  his  life  in  the  saddle  than 
in  the  easy-chair,  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  he  had  gained  for  himself  a  reputation  for 
harshness. 

In  Suabia  it  was  said  that  he  reigned,  as  it  were, 
like  a  tyrant ;  and  in  far  off  Saxony  the  monks  wrote 
in  their  chronicles,  that  he  had  been  an  almost 
"  intolerable  warrior."  1 

Before  Herr  Burkhard  was  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
he  had  chosen  a  spouse  for  himself.  This  was 
the  young  Frau  Hadwig,  daughter  of  the  duke  of 
Bavaria.  But  the  evening-glow  of  a  declining  life  is 
but  ill  matched  with  the  light  of  the  morning-star. 
Such  a  union  is  against  Nature's  laws.^  Therefore, 
Frau  Hadwig  had  accepted  the  old  duke  of  Suabia, 
merely  to  please  her  father.  She  had  nursed  and 
tended  him,  well,  as  is  due  to  gray  hairs  ;  but  when 
the  old  man  laid  himself  down  to  die,  grief  did  not 
break  her  heart. 

So  she  buried  him  in  the  vault  of  his  ancestors," 
erected  a  monument  of  gray  sandstone  to  his  memory, 
placed  an  ever-burning  lamp  over  his  grave,  and 
sometimes,  but  not  too  often,  came  down  there  to 
pray. 


4  EKKEHARD 

Then  Frau  Hadwig  lived  alone  in  the  castle  of 
Hohentwiel.  She  remained  in  possession  of  all  the 
landed  property  of  her  husband's  famil}-,  with  the 
full  authority  to  do  with  it  as  she  pleased.  Besides 
this  she  was  lady  patroness  of  the  bishopric  of 
Constance  and  all  the  monasteries  around  the  lake, 
and  the  Emperor  had  given  her  a  bill  of  feofment 
signed  and  sealed  by  his  own  hand,  by  which  the 
regency  of  Suabia  remained  her  own,  so  long  as  she 
kept  true  to  her  widowhood. 

The  young  widow  had  very  aristocratic  feelings 
and  unusual  beauty.  Her  nose,  however,  was  a  trifle 
short,  her  lovely  lips  were  a  little  inclined  to  pout, 
and  in  her  boldly  projecting  chin,  the  graceful 
dimple  so  becoming  to  women  was  not  to  be  found. 
All  those  whose  features  are  thus  formed,  unite  to 
a  clear  intellect  a  not  over  tender  heart,  and  their 
disposition  is  more  severe  than  charitable.  For 
this  reason  the  duchess,  in  spite  of  her  soft  beauti- 
ful complexion,  inspired  many  of  her  subjects  with  a 
peculiar  fear.^ 

On  that  misty  day  mentioned  before,  Frau  Had- 
wig was  standing  at  one  of  her  chamber-windows, 
looking  out  into  the  distance.  She  wore  a  steel-gray 
undergarment,  which  fell  down  in  graceful  folds  on 
her  embroidered  sandals  ;  and  over  this  a  tight-fitting 
black  tunic,  reaching  to  the  knees.  In  the  girdle 
encircling  her  waist  glittered  a  precious  beryl.  Her 
chestnut-brown  hair  was  confined  within  a  net  of 
gold  thread,  but  round  her  clear  forehead  some  stray 
curls  played  unforbidden. 

On  a  small  marble  table  by  the  window  stood  a 


HADIVIG,    THE   DUCHESS   OF  SUAE  I  A      5 

fantastically-shaped  vessel  of  dark  green  bronze,  in 
which  some  foreign  incense  was  burning,  sending  its 
fragrant  white  little  cloudlets  up  to  the  ceiling.  The 
walls  were  covered  with  many-colored  finely  woven 
tapestries. 

There  are  days  when  one  is  discontented  with 
everything,  and  if  one  were  suddenly  transported  into 
paradise  itself,  even  then  all  would  be  wrong.  At 
such  times  the  thoughts  wander  peevishly  from  this 
to  that  subject,  not  knowing  on  what  to  fix  them- 
selves,—  out  of  every  corner  grins  a  distorted  face, 
and  he  who  is  gifted  with  a  very  fine  ear,  may  even 
hear  the  derisive  laughter  of  the  goblins.  It  is  a 
belief  in  those  parts  that  the  perversity  of  such  days 
generally  arises  from  people  having  sprung  out  of 
bed  left  foot  first ;  to  do  so  is  held  to  be  in  direct 
opposition  to  nature. 

The  duchess  was  under  the. spell  of  such  a  day. 
She  wanted  to  look  out  of  the  window,  and  a  sharp 
wind  blew  the  mist  right  into  her  face;  it  annoyed 
her.  She  began  to  cough  angrily.  If  the  whole 
country  had  been  bathed  in  sunshine,  she  would 
have  found  fault  with  that  also. 

Spazzo  the  chamberlain  had  come  in  and  stood 
respectfully  near  the  entrance.  He  threw  a  compla- 
cent look  on  his  outward  equipment,  feeling  sure  to 
attract  his  mistress's  eye  to-day,  for  he  had  put  on 
an  embroidered  shirt  of  finest  linen  and  a  sapphire- 
colored  upper  garment,  with  purple  border,  all  in  the 
latest  fashion ;  the  bishop's  tailor  at  Constance  had 
brought  the  articles  over  only  the  day  before.* 

The  wolf-dog  of  the  knight  of  Fridingen  had  killed 


6  EKKEHARD 

two  lambs  of  the  ducal  herd;  therefore  Herr  Spazzo 
intended  to  make  his  dutiful  report  and  obtain  Frau 
Hadwig's  princely  opinion,  whether  he  should  con- 
clude a  peaceful  agreement  with  the  dog's  master, 
or  whether  he  should  bring  in  a  suit  at  the  next 
session  of  the  tribunal,  to  have  him  fined  and  sen- 
tenced to  pay  damages.^  He  began  his  speech,  but 
before  he  had  got  to  the  end,  he  saw  the  duchess 
make  a  sign,  the  meaning  of  which  could  not  remain 
unintelligible  to  a  sensible  man.  She  put  her  fore- 
finger first  up  to  her  forehead,  and  then  pointed 
with  it  to  the  door.  So  the  chamberlain  perceived 
that  it  was  left  to  his  own  wits,  not  only  to  find  the 
best  expedient  with  regard  to  the  lambs,  —  but  also 
to  take  himself  off  as  quickly  as  possible.  He  bowed 
and  withdrew. 

In  clear  tones  Dame  Hadwig  called  out  now: 
"  Praxedis  !  " 

And  when  there  were  no  sounds  of  footsteps 
hurrjnng  up  to  the  room,  she  repeated  in  sharper 
accents,  "  Praxedis  !  " 

It  was  not  long  before  the  person  thus  called 
glided  into  the  closet. 

Praxedis  was  waiting-maid  to  the  duchess  of 
Suabia.  She  was  a  Greek  and  a  living  proof  that 
the  son  of  the  Byzantine  Emperor  Basilius  had  once 
asked  the  fair  Hadwig's  hand  in  marriage.^  He  had 
made  a  present  of  the  clever  child,  well  instructed  in 
music  and  womanly  accomplishments,  together  with 
many  jewels  and  precious  stones,  to  the  German 
duke's  daughter,  and  in  return  had  received  a  refusal. 
At  that  time  one  could  give  away  human  beings,  as 


HAD  WIG,    THE  DUCHESS   OF  SUAE  I  A      7 

well  as  buy  and  sell  them.  Liberty  was  not  every- 
body's birthright.  But  slavery  such  as  the  Greek 
child  had  to  endure,  in  the  ducal  castle  in  Suabia, 
was  not  a  very  hard  lot. 

Praxedis  had  a  small  head  with  pale  delicate 
features ;  out  of  which  a  pair  of  large  dark  eyes 
looked  into  the  world,  unspeakably  sad  one  moment 
and  in  the  next  sparkling  with  merriment.  Her 
hair  was  arranged  over  her  forehead  in  heavy  braids. 
She  was  beautiful. 

"Praxedis,  where  is  the  starling?"  asked  Frau 
Hadwig. 

"I  will  bring  it,"  rephed  the  Greek  maid;  and 
she  went  and  fetched  the  black  little  fellow,  who 
sat  in  his  cage,  with  an  important  impudent  air,  as 
if  his  existence  were  filling  up  a  vast  gap  in  the 
universe.  The  starling  had  made  his  fortune  at 
Hadwig's  wedding-feast. "^  An  old  fiddler  and  juggler 
had,  with  infinite  pains,  taught  him  to  repeat  a  Latin 
wedding-speech,  and  great  was  the  merriment,  when 
at  the  banquet  the  cage  was  set  on  the  table,  and 
the  bird  said  his  lesson  :  "  A  new  star  has  risen  on 
the  Suabian  firmament ;  the  star's  name  is  Hadwig. 
Hail,  all  hail !  "  and  so  fordi. 

But  this  was  not  all  the  knowledge  which  the 
starling  possessed.  Besides  these  rhymes,  he  could 
also  recite  the  Lord's  prayer.  The  starling  was  also 
very  obstinate,  and  had  his  caprices,  as  well  as  the 
duchess   of   Suabia. 

On  this  particular  day,  some  recollection  of  old 
times  must  have  been  flitting  through  her  mind  ;  she 
wanted  the  starling  to  deliver  the  wedding-speech. 


8  EKKEHARD 

But  the  starling  was  in  one  of  his  pious  moods,  and 
when  Praxedis  brought  him  into  the  chamber  he 
called  out  solemnly :  "  Amen !  "  and  when  Frau 
Hadwig  put  a  piece  of  gingerbread  into  his  cage, 
and  asked  him  in  coaxing  tones:  "What  was  the 
name  of  the  star  on  the  Suabian  firmament,  my 
pretty  one  ?  "  —  he  slowly  responded  :  "  Lead  us  not 
into  temptation."  But  when  she  whispered  to  him, 
to  brighten  his  memory:  "The  stars  name  is 
Hadwig,  all  hail !  "  —  then  the  starling,  continuing  in 
his  pious  strain,  said  :  "  And  deliver  us  from  evil." 

"  What,  even  the  birds  become  impudent  these 
days,"  exclaimed  Frau  Hadwig.  "  Pussy,  where  art 
thou  ?"  and  she  enticed  toward  her  the  black  cat,  to 
which  the  starling  had  long  been  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh;  it  came  creeping  up  with  glittering  eyes. 

Frau  Hadwig  opened  the  cage,  and  left  the  bird 
to  its  mercy,  but  though  the  sharp  claws  were 
already  ruffling  his  plumage  and  had  pulled  out  some 
of  his  feathers,  the  starling  seized  a  desperate  chance 
and  escaped  out  of  the  open  window. 

Soon  he  had  become  a  black  speck  in  the  mist. 

"  Well,  now  really  I  might  as  well  have  kept  him 
in  the  cage,"  said  Frku  Hadwig.  "  Praxedis,  what 
dost  thou  think?" 

"  My  mistress  is  always  right,  whatever  she  does," 
replied  the  Greek  maiden. 

"Praxedis,"  continued  Frau  Hadwig,  "fetch  me 
my  jewels.     I  wish  to  put  on  a  bracelet," 

So  Praxedis,  the  ever-willing,  went  away,  and 
brought  the  duchess  the  casket  of  jewels.  It  was 
made  of  chased  silver :  on  it  a  few  figures  had  been 


HAD  WIG,    THE   DUCHESS   OF  SUABIA      9 

embossed  in  coarse  unfinished  workmanship :  the 
Saviour  as  the  good  Shepherd,  and  Peter  with  the 
keys,  and  Paul  with  the  sword,  and  around  these,  all 
sorts  of  leaf  work  and  richly-interlaced  ornamenta- 
tion, as  though  it  had  served  formerly  for  the  keep- 
ing of  relics.  It  had  been  brought  home  by  Herr 
Burkhard,  but  he  had  not  liked  to  speak  about  it ; 
for  he  had  returned  about  that  time  from  a  feud, 
in  which  he  had  vanquished  and  heavily  thrown  a 
Burgundian  bishop. 

When  the  duchess  opened  the  casket,  the  rich 
jewels  glimmered  and  glittered  beautifully  on  the 
red  velvet  lining.  As  one  looks  at  such  tokens  of 
remembrance,  all  sorts  of  old  memories  come  flock- 
ing back. 

Amongst  other  things  there  lay  also  the  miniature 
of  the  Greek  Prince  Constantine,  painted  by  the 
Byzantine  master  on  a  background  of  gold,  in  a 
delicate,  pretty  and  spiritless  manner. 

"  Praxedis,"  said  Frau  Hadwig,  "  how  would  it 
have  been,  if  I  had  given  my  hand  to  that  yellow- 
cheeked,  peak-nosed  prince  of  yours .'' " 

"  My  liege  Lady,"  was  the  answer,  "  I  am  sure 
that  it  would  have  been  well." 

"  There  now,"  continued  Frau  Hadwig,  "  tell  me 
something  about  your  stupid  home.  I  should  like  to 
know  what  my  entrance  into  Constantinopolis  would 
have  been  like." 

"  Oh,  Princess,"  said  Praxedis,  "my  home  is  beauti- 
ful," —  and  wistfully  her  dark  eyes  gazed  into  the  misty 
distance,  —  "and  such  a  dreary  sky,  at  least,  would 
have  been  forever  spared  you  on  the  Sea  of  Marmora. 


lO  EKKEHARD 

Even  you  would  have  uttered  a  cry  of  surprise,  as 
we  approached  on  the  proud  galley  :  —  After  you 
pass  the  Seven  Towers,  then  first  the  dark  masses, 
the  palaces,  cupolas,  churches,  all  of  dazzling  white 
marble,  arise  from  behind  the  island  of  Prokonne- 
sos.  Proudly  from  the  blue  background  the  stately 
lily  of  the  Mediterranean  lifts  her  snowy  petals; 
here  a  grove  of  dark  cypress  trees,  there  the  gigantic 
cupola  of  the  Hagia  Sophia;  on  one  side  the  long- 
stretched  promontory  of  the  Golden  Horn,  and  oppo- 
site, on  the  Asiatic  shore,  another  magnificent  city. 
And  hke  a  golden  blue  girdle,  the  sea,  freighted  with 
its  innumerable  ships,  encircles  this  magic  sight,  — 
oh,  my  mistress,  even  in  my  dreams  far  away  here  in 
the  Suabian  land,  I  cannot  realize  the  splendor  of 
that  view. 

"  And  then,  when  the  sun  has  sunk  down,  and  the 
night  steals  over  the  glittering  waves,  then  every- 
thing is  bathed  in  blue  Greek  fire,  in  honor  of  the 
royal  bride.  Now  we  enter  the  port.  The  big  chain 
which  usually  bars  it,  drops  down  before  the  bridal 
ship.  Torches  burn  on  the  shore.  There  stand  the 
emperor's  body-guard,  the  Warangians  with  their 
two-edged  battle-axes,' and  the  blue-eyed  Normans; 
there  the  patriarch  with  innumerable  priests  ;  every- 
where, music  and  shouts  of  joy,  and  the  imperial 
prince  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  welcomes  his  betrothed, 
and  the  festal  train  direct  their  steps  towards  the 
palace  of  Blacharnae  ..." 

"  And  all  this  splendor  I  have  missed,"  sneered 
Frau  Hadwig.  "  Praxedis,  thy  picture  is  not  com- 
plete, for  on  the  following  day,  comes  the  patriarch. 


HAD  WIG,    THE   DUCHESS   OF  SUAE  I  A      II 

and  puts  the  western  Christian  through  a  sharp  and 
severe  course  of  instruction  in  all  the  heresies  which 
flourish  on  the  barren,  arid  soil  of  your  religion,  like 
deadly  nightshade  and  henbane,  —  and  in  the  monk- 
ish pictures  and  the  decrees  of  the  Councils  of  Chal- 
cedon  and  Nicasa.  After  him  comes  the  mistress 
of  the  ceremonies,  to  teach  the  laws  of  etiquette  and 
court-manners ;  what  expression  to  wear  on  my  face, 
and  how  to  manage  my  train ;  when  to  prostrate 
myself  before  the  emperor  and  when  to  embrace  my 
mother-in-law,  how  to  treat  this  favorite  with  cour- 
tesy, and  to  use  this  or  that  colossal  form  of  speech, 
in  addressing  some  monster:  'If  it  please  your  Emi- 
nence, your  Highness,  your  subhme  and  adorable 
Greatness  ! '  —  Whatever  can  be  called  originality 
and  natural  strength  is  nipped  in  the  bud,  and  my 
Lord  and  Master  turns  out  to  be  a  painted  doll  like 
the  rest.  Some  fine  morning  the  enemy  appears 
before  the  gates,  or  the  successor  is  not  to  the  liking 
of  the  Blues  and  Greens  of  the  Circus ;  revolution 
rages  through  the  streets,  and  the  German  duke's 
daughter  is  put  into  a  convent  bereft  of  her  eyesight 
.  .  .  what  good  does  it  do  her  then,  that  her  children 
were  addressed  as  their  Highnesses  when  still  in  the 
cradle?  Praxedis,  I  know  why  I  did  not  go  to 
Constantinopolis ! " 

"The  emperor  is  the  Master  of  the  universe,  and 
his  will  is  forever  just,"  said  the  Greek,  "  so  I  have 
been  taught  to  believe." 

"  Hast  thou  ever  reflected  that  it  is  a  very  precious 
boon  for  a  man  to  be  his  own  master.?" 

"  No,"  said  Praxedis. 


12  EKKEHARD 

The  turn  which  the  conversation  had  taken 
pleased  the  duchess. 

"  What  account  of  me  did  your  Byzantine  painter, 
who  was  sent  to  take  my  hkeness,  carry  home,  I 
wonder  ?  " 

The  Greek  maid  seemed  not  to  have  heard  the 
question.  She  had  risen  from  her  seat  and  gone  to 
the  window. 

"  Praxedis,"  said  the  duchess  with  asperity,  "an- 
swer me." 

Thus  questioned,  Praxedis  turned,  round,  and 
faintly  smiling  said :  "  That  was  a  pretty  long  time 
ago,  but  Master  Michael  Thallelaios  did  not  speak 
over  well  of  you.  He  told  us  that  he  had  prepared 
his  finest  colors  and  gold  leaves,  and  that  you  were 
a  lovely  child,  when  you  were  brought  before  him 
to  be  painted,  and  that  a  thrill  of  awe  had  come  over 
him,  making  him  feel  as  if  he  must  do  his  very  ut- 
most, as  when  he  painted  God's  holy  mother  for  the 
monastery  of  Athos.  But  the  Princess  Had  wig  had 
been  pleased  to  distort  her  eyes ;  and  when  he  had 
ventured  to  raise  a  modest  objection,  her  Grace  put 
out  her  tongue,  held  two  open-spread  hands  to  her 
nose,  and  said  in  very 'graceful  broken  Greek  that 
that  was  the  right  position  to  be  painted  in.  The 
imperial  court-painter  profited  by  the  occasion  to 
express  his  opinion  about  the  want  of  manners  and 
education  in  German  lands,  and  vowed  that  never,  so 
long  as  he  lived,  would  he  paint  a  German  Fraulein. 
And  the  Emperor  Basilius,  on  hearing  this  account, 
growled  fiercely  through  his  beard  .  .  .  "  ^ 

"Let  his  Majesty  growl,"  said  the    duchess,  "and 


HADlVfG,    THE   DUCHESS   OF  SUABTA      13 

pray  God  to  bestow  on  all  others  the  patience  which 
I  then  lacked.  I  have  not  yet  had  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  a  monkey,  but  according  to  all  that  is  told 
about  them  by  trustworthy  men,  Master  Michael's 
pedigree  must  extend  back  to  those  members  of 
creation." 

Meanwhile  she  had  put  on  the  bracelet.  It  repre- 
sented two  serpents  twisted  together  and  kissing  each 
other.  On  the  head  of  each  rested  a  tiny  crown. ^ 
from  the  mass  of  jewelry  a  heavy  silver  arrow  had  got 
into  her  hands  and  it  also  exchanged  its  prison  in 
the  casket  for  a  fairer  abode.  It  was  drawn  through 
the  meshes  of  the  golden-threaded  net. 

As  if  to  try  the  effect  of  the  ornaments,  Frau 
Hadwig  now  walked  with  stately  steps  through  the 
chamber.  Her  attitude  seemed  to  challenge  ad- 
miration, but  the  hall  was  empty;  even  the  cat  had 
slunk  away.  There  were  no  mirrors  on  the  walls. 
The  arrangements  for  domestic  comfort  at  that  time 
left  much  to  be  desired. 

Praxedis's  thoughts  were  still  busy  with  the  sub- 
ject just  discussed.  "  My  gracious  Mistress,"  said 
she,  •'  I  nevertheless  felt  very  sorry  for  him."    • 

"  Sorry  for  whom  ?  " 

"  For  the  emperor's  son.  He  said  that  you  had  ap- 
peared to  him  in  a  dream,  and  that  all  his  happiness 
depended  upon  you.     He  even  shed  tears  ..." 

"  Let  the  dead  rest,"  said  Dame  Hadwig  testily. 
"  I  had  rather  that  you  took  your  lute  and  sang 
me  the  Greek  ditty: 

"  *  Constantine,  thou  foolish  fellow, 

Constantine,  leave  off  thy  weeping  ! '  " 


14  EKKEHARD 

"  It  is  broken,  and  all  the  strings  spoilt,  since  my 
Lady  Duchess  pleased  to  ...  " 

"  To  throw  it  at  the  head  of  Count  Boso  of 
Burgundy,"  said  Dame  Hadwig.  "  He  well  deserved 
it;  it  was  not  necessary  for  him  to  come  uninvited  to 
Herr  Burkhard's  funeral,  and  to  preach  consolation 
to  me,  as  if  he  were  a  saint.  —  Have  the  lute  mended, 
and  meanwhile,  my  Greek  treasure,  canst  thou  tell 
me  why  I  have  donned  these  glittering  ornaments 
to-day?" 

"  God  is  all-knowing,"  said  the  Greek  maid.  "  I 
cannot  tell." 

She  was  silent.  So  was  Frau  Hadwig.  Then 
ensued  one  of  those  long  significant  pauses  generally 
preceding  self-knowledge.  At  last  the  duchess 
said: 


I  myself  do  not  kno 


She  fixed  her  eyes  gloomily  on  the  floor,  and 
added:  "I  believe  I  did  it  from  ennui.  But  then 
the  top  of  our  Hohentwiel  is  but  a  dreary  nest,  — 
especially  for  a  widow.  Praxedis,  dost  thou  know 
a  remedy  against  ennui  ?  " 

"  I  once  heard  from  a  wise  preacher,"  said  Praxe- 
dis, "  that  there  are  'several  remedies.  Sleeping, 
drinking  and  travelling  —  but  that  the  best  is  fasting 
and  praying." 

Then  Frau  Hadwig  rested  her  head  on  her  lily- 
white  hand,  and  looking  sharply  at  the  quick-witted 
Greek,  she  said  : 

"  To  morrow  we  will  go  on  a  journey." 


THE  DISCIPLES   OF  ST.   CALLUS         1 5 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   DISCIPLES   OF   ST.    GALLUS. 

The  next  day  the  duchess,  accompanied  by  Praxedis 
and  a  numerous  train,  was  on  her  way  across  the 
Bodensee  in  the  early  glow  of  the  morning  sun.  The 
lake  was  beautifully  blue  ;  the  flags  floated  gayly  in 
the  air,  and  there  was  much  merriment  on  board  the 
vessel.  And  who  could  be  melancholy,  when  gliding 
over  the  clear,  crystal  waters ;  past  the  forest-girdled 
shores  with  their  many  towers  and  castles;  snowy 
peaks  rising  in  the  distance  ;  and  the  reflection  of 
the  white  sails,  trembling  and  breaking  in  the  play- 
ful waves  ? 

No  one  knew  where  the  end  of  the  journey  was 
to  be.  But  then  they  were  accustomed  to  obey 
without  questioning. 

As  they  approached  the  bay  of  Rorschach,^*^  the' 
duchess  commanded  them  to  run  in.  So  the  prow 
was  turned  to  the  shore,  and  soon  after  she  crossed 
the  shaky  plank  and  stepped  on  land.  Here  the 
to  11 -gatherer,  who  received  the  duty  from  all  those 
who  travelled  to  Italy,  and  the  market-master,  and 
all  the  others  who  held  any  official  position,  greeted 
their  sovereign  with  a  lusty  "  Heil  Herro!"  "  Heil 
Liebo !  "  11  and  waved  mighty  fir-branches  over  their 


1 6  EKKEHARD 

heads.  Acknowledging  their  salutations  she  walked 
through  the  ranks,  and  ordered  her  chamberlain  to 
distribute  some  silver  coins; — but  not  much  time 
was  spent  in  tarrying.  Already  the  horses  which 
had  been  secretly  sent  on  before,  in  the  night,  stood 
ready  waiting,  and  when  all  were  in  the  saddle,  Frau 
Hadwig  gave  the  word  of  command :  "  To  St. 
Gallus."  Then  her  servants  looked  at  each  other 
with  wondering  eyes,  as  if  asking,  "  What  can  this 
pilgrimage  mean?"  But  there  was  no  time  for  an 
answ^er,  as  the  cavalcade  was  already  cantering  over 
the  hilly  ground  toward  the  monastery. 

St.  Benedict  and  his  disciples  knew  very  well 
where  to  build  their  monasteries.  Throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land,  wherever  you  find  a 
large  building,  which,  like  a  fortress,  commands  a 
whole  tract  of  land,  the  key  to  a  valley,  the  central 
point  of  crossing  highways,,  the  repository  of  the 
most  exquisite  vintage  —  there  the  passing  tourist, 
—  until  the  contrary  has  been  proved  to  him  —  may 
boldly  advance  the  assertion,  that  the  house  in  ques- 
tion belongs,  or  rather  belonged  formerly  to  the 
order  of  St.  Benedict,  for  in  our  days  monasteries 
have  become  scarcer  and  inns  more  plentiful,  a  phe- 
nomenon which  may  be  ascribed  to  the  progress  of 
civilization. 

The  Irish  saint  Gallus  had  also  chosen  a  lovely 
spot,  when,  pining  for  forest  air,^^  he  settled  down  in 
this  Helvetian  wilderness  :  In  a  high  mountain-glen, 
separated  by  steep  hills  from  the  milder  shores  of 
the  Bodensee,  with  wild  torrents  rushing  by,  while 
on  the  other  side  the  gigantic  rocks  of  the  Alpstein, 


THE   DISCIPLES   OF  ST.   CALLUS         1/ 

the  snow-capped  peaks  of  which  disappear  in  the 
clouds,  rise  as  a  sheltering  wall. 

It  was  a  strange  impulse  which  led  those  apostles 
of  Albion  and  Erin  into  the  German  continent,  but 
if  one  examines  the  matter  closely  their  merit  is  not 
so  very  great. 

"  The  taste  for  visiting  foreign  lands  is  so  deeply 
rooted  in  the  minds  of  Britons,  that  it  cannot  be 
eradicated,^'' ^'^  thus  wrote  an  impartial  Suabian,  as 
early  as  in  the  times  of  Charlemagne.  They  were 
simply  the  predecessors  and  ancestors  of  the  present 
British  tourists,  and  might  be  recognized  even  at  a 
distance  by  the  foreign,  curious  shape  of  their  grip- 
sacks.i*  Now  and  then  one  of  them  would  settle 
down  and  never  go  home,  although  the  honest  na- 
tives of  the  soil  looked  on  him  as  a  very  unnecessary 
intruder.  Still  their  greater  pertinacity,  the  inheri- 
tance of  all  Britons,  their  cleverness  in  adapting 
themselves  to  conditions,  and  the  mystic  awe  which 
all  that  is  foreign  inspires  in  the  lower  classes  made 
their  missionary  endeavors  rather  successful. 

With  other  times,  other  customs !  The  descend- 
ants of  those  saints  are  now  building  railroads  for 
the  Swiss,  for  good  Helvetian  money.^^ 

The  simple  cell  near  the  Steinach  where  the 
Hibernian  hermit  had  met  his  adventures  with 
thorns,  with  bears,  and  goblin  water-witches  had 
grown  into  a  spacious  monastery.  Above  the  shingle- 
covered  roofs  of  the  dwelling  majestically  rose  the 
octagonal  church-tower ;  school-houses  and  granaries, 
cellars  and  sheds,  abounded  also,  and  even  a  clack- 
ing mill-wheel  might  be  heard,  for  all  the  necessaries 

VOL.  I.  — 2 


iS  EKKEHARD 

of  life  had  to  be  prepared  within  the  precincts  of 
the  cloister,  so  that  the  monks  need  not  go  too  far 
beyond  the  boundaries,  thereby  endangering  their 
souls.  A  strong  wall,  with  watch-tower  and  gate,  sur- 
rounded the  whole  ;  less  for  ornament  than  for  se- 
curity, since  there  was  many  a  powerful  knight  in 
those  times  who  little  heeded  the  commandment, 
"Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  goods." 

It  was  past  the  dinner-hour;  a  deep  calm  lay  over 
the  valley.  The  rules  of  St.  Benedict  prescribe  that 
at  that  hour  every  one  should  seek  his  couch,  and 
though  the  relaxing  heat  of  an  Italian  sun  which 
forces  men  and  beasts  into  the  arms  of  Morpheus  is 
rarely  felt  on  that  side  of  the  Alps,  the  pious  monks 
nevertheless  followed  this  rule  to  the  letter.i^ 

Only  the  guard  on  the  watch-tower  stood  upright 
and  faithful  as  ever,  in  the  little  chamber  with  the 
flies  buzzing  about  him. 

The  name  of  the  watchman  was  Romeias,  and  he 
was  keeping  a  sharp  look-out.  Suddenly  he  heard  the 
tramp  of  horses'  feet  in  the  neighboring  firwood  ;  he 
pricked  up  his  ears  and  listened  intently.  "  Eight  or 
ten  horsemen,"  he  muttered,  and  quickly  dropped  down 
the  portcullis  from  the 'gate,  drew  up  the  little  bridge 
leading  over  the  moat,  and  took  down  his  horn  from 
a  nail  in  the  wall.  Finding  that  some  spiders  had 
been  weaving  their  cob-webs  in  it,  he  gave  it  a  good 
rubbing. 

By  that  time  the  out-riders  of  the  cavalcade  were 
visible  on  the  outskirts  of  the  forest.  Romeias  rubbed 
his  right  hand  over  his  forehead  and  eyed  the  ap- 
proaching  party    with    a   very   puzzled   look.      The 


THE  DISCIPLES   OF  ST.   CALLUS         1 9 

ultimate  result  of  his  investigation  was  one  word : 
"  Womenfolk ! "  He  spoke  half  questioning,  half 
exclaiming,  but  there  was  neither  pleasure  nor  edifi- 
cation in  his  tone. 

He  seized  his  horn  and  blew  three  times  into  it. 
They  were  uncouth,  bull-like  notes  that  he  produced, 
and  one  might  safely  conclude  from  his  horn-playing 
that  neither  the  Muses  nor  the  Graces  had  sur- 
rounded the  cradle  of  Romeias  at  Villingen  in  the 
Black  Forest. 

Any  one  who  has  looked  about  in  a  wood  must 
have  observed  the  life  in  an  ant-hill.  There  every- 
thing is  well  organized  and  goes  on  in  its  ordinary 
way  with  harmony  reigning  in  all  the  movement. 
Now  if  you  put  your  stick  into  it  and  frighten  the 
foremost  ants,  instantly  there  is  wild  confusion,  and  a 
disorderly  running  hither  and  thither  ensues.  And  all 
this  commotion  is  brought  about  by  one  single  blow. 
Thus  and  not  otherwise  did  the  horn  of  Romeias 
blow  discord  into  the  silent  monastery. 

The  windows  of  the  great  hall  in  the  school-house 
were  filled  with  inquisitive  young  faces.  Many  a 
lovely  dream  vanished  out  of  the  solitary  cells,  with- 
out ever  coming  to  an  end,  many  a  profound  medita- 
tion of  half-awake  thinkers  as  well.  The  wicked 
Sindolt,  who  at  this  hour  as  he  lay  on  his  couch  used 
to  investigate  the  forbidden  books  of  Ovid's  "  Art  of 
Love,"  rolled  hastily  up  the  parchment  leaves  and 
hid  them  carefully  in  his  straw  mattress. 

The  Abbot  Cralo,  heavy  with  sleep,  jumped  up 
from  his  easy  chair;  stretched  his  arms  toward  the 
ceilins:  of  his  room.     A  magnificent  silver   basin  " 


20  EKKEHARD 

stood  before  him  on  a  stone  table  ;  he  dipped  his  fore- 
linger  into  it  and  wetted  his  eyes  to  drive  away  the 
drowsiness  that  was  still  lingering  there.  Then  he 
limped  to  the  open  bow-window  and  looked  out,  and 
he  was  as  unpleasantly  surprised  as  if  a  walnut  had 
dropped  on  his  head. 

"  St.  Benedict  save  us  !  my  cousin  the  duchess  !  " 

He  quickly  adjusted  his  cowl,  brushed  up  the 
scanty  tuft  of  hair^^  which  on  the  ver}'  top  of  his 
bald  pate  grew  upwards  like  a  stately  pine-tree  in  a 
sandy  desert;  put  on  his  golden  chain  with  the  clois- 
ter seal  on  it,  took  his  applewood  crozier  adorned 
with  its  richly  carved  ivory  handle,  and  descended 
into  the  courtyard. 

"  Can't  you  hasten  ?  "  shouted  one  of  the  party  out- 
side. Then  the  abbot  bade  the  watchman  ask  them 
what  they  demanded.     Romeias  obeyed. 

Now  there  came  a  blast  from  a  horn  outside;  the 
chamberlain  Spazzo,  in  the  capacity  of  herald,  rode 
up  close  to  the  gate,  and  called  in  a  deep  bass 
voice :  — 

"The  duchess  and  reigning  sovereign  of  Suabia 
presents  her  compliments  to  St.  Callus.  Open  to 
her." 

The  abbot  sighed  gently.  He  climbed  up  to 
Romeias's  watch-tower;  leaning  on  his  staff,  he  gave 
his  blessing  to  those  standing  outside  and  spoke 
thus :  — 

"  In  the  name  of  St.  Callus,  the  most  unworthy  of 
his  disciples  returns  his  thanks  for  the  gracious 
greeting.  But  his  monastery  is  no  Noah's  ark,  into 
which  every  species  of  living  thing,  pure  and  impure, 


THE   DISCIPLES   OF  ST.   CALLUS         21 

male  and  female,  may  enter.  Therefore,  although 
my  heart  is  filled  with  regret,  it  is  an  impossibility 
to  sanction  your  entrance.  On  the  day  of  judg- 
ment the  abbot  must  render  an  account  for  the  souls 
intrusted  to  his  keeping.  The  presence  of  a  woman, 
although  the  noblest  in  the  land,  and  the  frivolous 
speech  of  the  children  of  this  world  would  be  too 
great  a  temptation  for  those  who  are  bound  to  strive 
first  after  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  and  his  righteous- 
ness. Trouble  not  the  conscience  of  the  shepherd 
who  anxiously  watches  over  his  flock.  The  canoni- 
cal laws  bar  the  gate.  The  gracious  duchess  will 
find  at  Trogen  or  Rorschach  a  house  belonging  to 
the  monastery,  at  her  entire  disposal." 

Frau  Hadwig  had  been  for  some  time  sitting 
impatiently  in  her  saddle  ;  she  now  struck  her  white 
palfrey  with  her  riding-whip,  making  it  rear,  and 
called  out  laughingly  :  — 

"  Spare  yourself  all  your  fine  words.  Cousin  Cralo, 
for  I  will  see  the  cloister." 

In  doleful  accents  the  abbot  began:  *"  Woe  unto 
him  by  whom  offence  cometh.  It  were  better  for 
him  that  a  mill-stone  .  .  .  '  " 

But  he  did  not  finish  his  warning  speech.  Frau 
Hadwig  changed  the  tone  of  her  voice :  "  Sir 
Abbot,  the  duchess  of  Suabia  must  see  the  monas- 
tery," said  she  in  a  sharp  tone. 

Then  themuch-afilicted  man  perceived  that  further 
opposition  could  scarcely  be  offered  without  damag- 
ing the  future  prospects  of  the  monastery.  Yet  his 
conscience  still  resisted. 

When  one  is  in  a  doubtful  position,  and  is  uncer- 


22  EKKEHARD 

tain  how  to  act,  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  the  vacillat- 
ing mind  to  ask  the  advice  of  others;  it  lessens  the 
responsibility,  and  covers  retreat. 

Therefore  Cralo  now  called  down  :  "  As  you  insist 
so  peremptorily,  I  must  put  the  case  first  before  the 
assembled  brotherhood.  Until  then,  pray  have 
patience." 

He  walked  back  through  the  courtyard,  inwardly 
wishing  that  a  flood  might  come  from  heaven  and 
destroy  the  highway  which  had  brought  such  unwel- 
come guests.  His  limping  gait  was  hurried  and 
excited,  and  there  is  nothing  remarkable  in  the 
chronicler's  report  that  he  fluttered  up  and  down  the 
cloister-walk,  at  that  critical  moment,  like  a  swallow 
before  a  thunder-storm.^^ 

Five  times  the  little  bell  of  St.  Othmar's  chapel, 
near  the  great  church,  now  rang  out,  calling  the 
brothers  to  the  chapter-house.  The  solitary  corridor 
became  animated  with  hurrying  figures  ;  the  place 
of  assembly,  opposite  the  hexagonal  extension  was 
a  simple  gray  hall,  with  arches  supported  by 
columns,  where  the  waters  of  a  fountain  pleasantly 
tinkled  into  a  metal  basin. 

On  a  raised  tile-floor,  stood  the  abbot's  marble 
chair,  adorned  with  two  roughly-carved  lions'  heads. 
Steps  led  up  to  it.  With  a  very  pleasurable  sensa- 
tion the  eye  looked  out  from  under  these  dark 
arches  and  pillars  on  the  greenness  of  the  little 
garden  in  the  inner  court.  Roses  and  hollyhocks 
flourished  and  bloomed  in  it;  for  kindly  Nature 
smiles  even  on  those  who  have  turned  their  backs 
on  her. 


THE  DISCIPLES   OF  ST.    CALLUS        23 

The, white  cowls  and  dark-colored  mantles  con- 
trasted well  with  the  stone  gray  walls;  noiselessly 
they  entered  one  after  the  other.  A  hasty  bend  of 
the  head  was  the  mutual  greeting.  The  morning 
sun,  warm  and  cheering,  came  slanting  in  through 
the  narrow  windows. 

They  were  tried  men;  a  holy  senate,  well  pleasing 
in  God's  sight.20 

He  with  the  shrunk  figure  and  sharp  features,  pale 
from  much  fasting  and  many  night-vigils,  was  Notker 
the  stutterer.  A  melancholy  smile  played  about  his 
lips.  The  long  practice  of  asceticism  had  removed 
his  spirit  from  the  present.  In  former  times  he  had 
composed  very  beautiful  melodies  ;  but  now  he  had 
taken  a  more  gloomy  tendency,  and  in  the  stillness 
of  the  night  hunted  after  demons  to  fight  with 
them.  In  the  crypt  of  St.  Gallus  he  had  lately 
encountered  the  Devil  himself,  and  beaten  him  so 
heartily  that  the  fiend  hid  himself  in  a  corner,  dis- 
mally howling,  and  envious  tongues  said  that  Not-" 
ker's  melancholy  song  of  "-Media  vita''''  had  also 
a  dark  origin;  that  the  Evil  One  had  revealed  it 
to  him  as  a  ransom  when  he  lay  ignominiously  con- 
quered, on  the  ground,  under  Notker's  strong  foot. 

Close  to  him,  a  good-natured  honest  face  smiled 
out  of  an  iron-gray  beard.  This  was  the  mighty 
Tutilo,  who  loved  best  to  sit  before  the  turning- 
lathe  and  carve  exquisitely  fine  images  of  ivory. 
Some  proofs  of  his  skill  even  now  exist,  such  as  the 
diptychon  with  the  Virgin  Mary's  ascension  and  the 
bear  of  St.  Gallus.  But  when  he  found  his  back 
beginning  to  grow  crooked  under  the  burden  of  his 


24  EKKEHARD 

labor,  singing,  he  would  go  out  wolf-hunting,  or 
engage  in  an  honest  boxing-match,  by  way  of  rec- 
reation ;  he  preferred  fighting  with  wicked  men  to 
wrestling  with  midnight  ghosts,  and  often  said  con- 
fidentially to  his  friend  Notker:  — 

"  He  who,  like  myself,  has  imprinted  his  mark  on 
many  a  Christian  as  well  as  heathen  back,  can  well 
do  without  battling  demons." 

Then  came  Ratpert  the  long-tried  teacher  of  the 
school,  who  always  showed  his  reluctance  when  the 
little  chapter-house  bell  called  him  away  from  his  his- 
tory books.  He  carried  his  head  somewhat  high;  he 
and  the  other  two,  though  so  different  in  character, 
were  one  heart  and  one  soul ;  a  three-leaved  cloister 
clover. '-^1  As  he  was  one  of  the  last  to  enter  the  hall, 
Ratpert  had  to  stand  near  his  antagonist,  the  evil 
Sindolt,  who  pretended  not  to  see  him,  and  whispered 
something  to  his  neighbor.  This  was  a  little  man 
with  a  face  like  a  shrew-mouse,  who  puckered  up  his 
lips,  for  Sindolt's  whispered  remark  had  been  that  in 
the  large  dictionary  by  Bishop  Salomon, ^^  beside  the 
words  '■'-  Rabulista  signifies  any  one  who  insists  upon 
disputing  about  everything  in  the  world,"  some  un- 
known hand  had  added  the  gloss,  "  like  Radolt  our 
great  thinker." 

In  the  dim  background  towered  the  tall  figure  of 
Sintram  the  indefatigable  calligraphist,  whose  manu- 
scripts were  then  the  wonder  of  the  whole  Cisalpine 
world;  23  but  the  tallest  of  St.  Callus's  disciples 
were  the  Scotchmen,  who  had  taken  their  stand 
close  to  the  entrance,  Fortegian  and  Failan,  Dubslan 
and  Brendan  and  the  rest,  inseparable  compatriots. 


THE  DISCIPLES  OF  ST.    CALLUS        25 

grumbling  over  what  they  considered  the  neglect 
shown  them.  In  their  number  was  also  the  red- 
bearded  Dubduin,  who,  in  spite  of  his  heavy  iron 
penitential  chain,  had  not  been  elected  prior.  As  a 
punishment  for  the  biting  satirical  verses  which  he 
had  composed  on  his  German  brothers,  he  had  been 
sentenced  to  water  the  dead  peach-tree  in  the  garden 
for  three  years. 

And  Notker,  the  physician,  was  present  also  in 
the  assembly.  He  had  but  lately  prescribed  the 
great  remedy  for  the  abbot's  lame  leg ;  namely,  that 
it  should  be  rubbed  with  fish-brains,  and  wrapped  up 
in  the  fresh  skin  of  a  wolf,  so  that  the  warmth  of  it 
might  stretch  out  the  contracted  sinews. ^^  His  nick- 
name was  Peppercorn,  on  account  of  the  strictness 
with  which  he  maintained  the  monastic  discipline. 
Then  there  were  Wolo,  who  could  not  bear  to  look 
at  a  woman  or  a  ripe  apple, ^^  and  Engelbert  the 
founder  of  the  menagerie,  and  Gerhard  the  preacher, 
and  Folkard  the  painter.  Who  knows  them  all, 
those  excellent  masters,  at  the  mention  of  whose 
names  the  next  generation  of  monks  confessed  with 
regret  that  such  men  were  becoming  scarcer  every 
day  ? 

Now,  the  abbot  mounted  his  stone  chair,  and  they 
took  counsel  as  to  what  should  be  done.  The  case 
was  very  difficult. 

Ratpert  spoke  first,  and  demonstrated  from  history 
in  what  way  the  Emperor  Charlemagne  had  once 
been  enabled  to  enter  the  monastery.^^ 

"  In  that  instance,"  he  said,  "it  was  assumed  that 
he  was  a  member  of  the  order,  as  long  as  he  was 


26  EKKEHARD 

within  our  precincts,  and  all  pretended  not  to  know 
who  h^  was.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  of  imperial 
dignity,  or  deeds  of  war,  or  humble  homage.  He 
walked  about  among  us  like  any  other  monk,  and 
that  he  was  not  offended  thereby  is  proved  by  the 
letter  of  protection  which  he  threw  over  the  wall, 
when  departing." 

But  the  great  difficulty  —  the  person  asking  for 
admittance  being  a  woman  —  could  not  be  avoided 
in  this  way.  The  stricter  ones  amongst  the  brother- 
hood grumbled,  and  Notker,  the  Peppercorn,  said  :  — 

"  She  is  the  widow  of  that  destroyer  of  countries, 
and  ravager  of  monasteries,  who  once  carried  off 
our  most  precious  chalice  as  a  war-contribution, ^7 
saying  the  derisive  words  :  '  God  neither  eats  nor 
drinks,  so  what  good  to  him  are  golden  vessels  ?  ' 
Let  the  gate  remained  closed." 

This  advice  did  not  suit  the  abbot ;  he  wished  to 
find  a  compromise.  The  debate  became  very  stormy, 
one  saying  this,  the  other  that.  Brother  Wolo,  on 
hearing  that  the  discussion  was  about  a  woman, 
softly  slunk  out  and  locked  himself  up  in  his  cell. 

Then  one  of  the  younger  men  rose  and  requested 
to  be  heard, 

"  Speak,  Brother  Ekkehard  !  "  ^s  called  out  the 
abbot. 

And  the  noisy  tumult  was  hushed  ;  all  liked  to 
hear  Ekkehard  speak.  He  was  still  young  in  years, 
of  a  very  handsome  figure,  and  he  captivated  every 
one  who  looked  at  him,  by  his  graceful  mien  and 
pleasing  expression.  Besides  this,  he  was  both  wise 
and  eloquent,  an    excellent    counsellor  and  a  most 


THE   DISCIPLES  OF  ST.    CALLUS        2/ 

learned  scholar.  At  the  cloister-school  he  taught 
Vergil,  and  though  the  rule  prescribed  that  none  but 
a  wise  and  hoary  man,  whose  age  would  guard  him 
from  frivolities,  and  who  by  his  experience  would  be 
discriminating  in  his  reception  of  applicants,  should 
be  made  doorkeeper,  yet  the  brothers  had  agreed 
that  Ekkehard  united  in  himself  all  the  necessary 
requirements,  and  consequently  had  intrusted  him 
with  that  office. 

A  scarcely  perceptible  smile  had  played  around 
his  lips,  while  the  old  men  were  disputing.  He  now 
raised  his  voice  and  spoke  thus  :  — 

"  The  duchess  of  Suabia  is  the  protectress  of  the 
monastery,  and  in  such  capacity  is  equal  to  a  man, 
and  even  though  our  monastic  rules  strictly  forbid 
that  a  woman  shall  set  foot  on  the  cloister  threshold, 
she  may  easily  be  carried  over." 

Upon  this  the  faces  of  the  old  men  brightened  up, 
as  if  a  great  load  had  been  taken  off  their  minds. 
The  cowls  nodded  in  approbation;  even  the  abbot 
was  not  unmoved  by  the  wise  counsel :  — 

"Verily,  the  Lord  often  reveals  himself,  even  unto 
a  younger  brother  I  29  Brother  Ekkehard,  you  are 
guileless  like  the  dove,  and  prudent  like  the  serpent. 
So  you  shall  carry  out  your  own  advice.  We  give 
you  herewith  the  necessary  dispensation."  The  red 
blood  rushed  into  Ekkehard's  cheeks,  but  he  bowed 
his  head  in  token  of  obedience. 

"And  what  about  the  female  attendants  of  the 
duchess?"  asked  the  abbot. 

Here  the  assembly  unanimously  decided  that  even 
the  most  liberal  interpretation  of  the  monastic  laws 


28  EKKEHARD 

could  not  grant  them  admittance.  The  evil  Sindolt, 
however,  said :  "Let  them  meanwhile  pay  a  visit 
to  the  nuns  on  Erin  Hill;  if  the  monastery  of 
St.  Callus  was  afflicted  by  a  visitation,  it  is  only 
fair  that  the  pious  Wiborad  should  bear  her  share 
of  it."' 

After  holding  a  whispered  consultation  with  Cer- 
oid the  steward  about  the  supper,  the  abbot  de- 
scended from  his  throne,  and,  accompanied  by  the 
brotherhood,  went  out  to  meet  his  guests,  who  had 
thrice  ridden  round  the  monaster}Mvalls,  banishing 
the  ennui  of  waiting  by  merry  jests  and  laughter. 

The  chant  ''Justus  germinavit,''  the  hymn  in 
praise  of  St.  Benedict,  now  came  in  heavy  monot- 
onous cadences,  as  the  monks  approached  from 
the  monastery  court.  The  heavy  gate  opened  creak- 
ing on  its  hinges,  and  out  came  the  abbot  at  the 
head  of  the  procession  of  friars,  who,  slowly  march- 
ing two  and  two,  chanted  antiphonally. 

Then  the  abbot  gave  a  sign  to  stop  the  singing. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Cousin  Cralo.^  "  flippantly  cried 
the  duchess  from  her  saddle.  "  I  have  not  seen  you 
for  an  age  !     Are  you  ?till  limping?  " 

Cralo,  however,  replied  with  dignity :  "  It  is  bet- 
ter that  the  shepherd  should  limp  than  the  flock,  ^o 
Be  pleased  to  hear  the  monastery's  decree." 

And  he  explained  the  condition  on  which  she  was 
to  enter. 

Then  Frau  Hadwig  replied  smilingly:  — 

"  During  all  the  time  that  I  have  wielded  the  sceptre 
in  Suabia,  such  a  proposition  has  never  been  made 
to  me.     But  the  laws  of  your  order  shall  be  respected. 


THE  DISCIPLES   OF  ST.   CALLUS         29 

Which  of  the  brothers  have  you  chosen  to  carry  the 
sovereign  over  the  threshold?  " 

She  cast  her  sparkling  eyes  over  the  ranks  of  the 
spiritual  champions,  and  when  she  beheld  the  dark 
fanatical  face  of  Notker  the  stutterer,  she  whispered 
to  Praxedis  :  — 

"  Maybe  we  shall  turn  back  at  once." 

Then  said  the  abbot :  "  It  is  the  doorkeeper's  duty. 
There  he  stands." 

Frau  Hadwig  turned  her  eyes  in  the  direction 
which  the  abbot's  forefinger  pointed.  Ekkehard  was 
standing  with  bowed  head  ;  she  beheld  the  handsome 
figure  and  noble  countenance,  glowing  with  youth 
and  health.  It  was  a  long  gaze  with  which  she 
studied  his  intellectual  features  and  the  waving 
golden  hair  and  the  broad  tonsure. 

"We  shall  not  turn  back,"  she  said,  nodding  to 
Praxedis;  and  before  the  short-necked  chamberlain, 
who  was  generally  wilhng  enough  but  too  slow,  had 
dismounted  from  his  nag  and  approached  her  pal- 
frey, she  sprang  gracefully  from  the  stirrup,  ap- 
proached the  doorkeeper  and  said  :  — 

"  Now,  then,  perform  your  office." 

Ekkehard  had  been  trying  to  compose  an  address, 
and  meant  to  apologize  in  faultless  Latin  for  the 
strange  liberty  he  was  about  to  take  ;  but  when  she 
stood  before  him,  proud  and  commanding,  his  voice 
failed  him,  and  the  speech  remained  where  it  had 
been  conceived,  —  in  his  thoughts.  But  his  courage 
was  undaunted,  and  with  strong  arm  he  lifted  the 
duchess,  who  rested  her  right  hand  on  her  bearer's 
shoulder,  and  clung  to  him  well  pleased. 


30  EKKEHARD 

Cheerfully  he  stepped  with  his  burden  over  the 
threshold  which  no  woman's  foot  might  touch ;  the 
abbot  walked  by  his  side,  the  chamberlain  and  vas- 
sals followed.  The  acolytes  swung  their  censers  high 
into  the  air,  and  the  monks,  marching  behind  in  a 
double  file  as  before,  sung  the  last  verses  of  their 
hymn  of  praise. 

It  was  a  wonderful  spectacle,  such  as  never 
occurred  either  before  or  after  in  the  history  of  the 
monastery,  and  as  regards  the  monk  carrying  the 
duchess,  those  prone  to  useless  moralizing  might 
well  indulge  in  edifying  observation  on  the  relation 
of  Church  and  State  in  those  times,  and  the  changes 
which  have  occurred  since.  .  .  . 

Natural  philosophers  say  that  at  the  meeting  of 
animate  objects  invisible  powers  begin  to  act,  stream- 
ing forth  and  passing  from  one  to  the' other,  thus 
creating  strange  affinities.  This  was  proved  true  at 
least  with  regard  to  the  duchess  and  the  doorkeeper; 
while  she  was  cradled  in  his  arms  she  thought 
inwardly  :  "  Indeed,  never  did  the  St.  Benedict's  cowl 
cover  a  more  graceful  head  than  this  one:"  ^^  and 
when  Ekkehard  with  shy  deference  put  down  his 
burden  in  the  cool  monastery  corridor,  he  was  struck 
by  the  thought  that  the  distance  from  the  gate  had 
never  before  seemed  to  him  so  short. 

"  I  suppose  that  you  found  me  very  heavy?"  said 
the  duchess. 

"  My  liege  Lady,  you  may  boldly  say  of  yourself  as 
it  is  written,  *  My  yoke  is  easy  and  my  burden  is 
light,' "  was  his  reply. 

"  I  should  not  have  expected  that  you  would  turn 


THE   DISCIPLES   OF  ST.    GALL  US        3  I 

the  words  of  Scripture  into  a  flattering  speech. 
What  is  your  name  ? " 

He  replied,   "They  call  me  Ekkehard." 

"  Ekkehard,  I  thank  you,"  said  the  duchess  with  a 
graceful  wave  of  her  hand. 

He  stepped  back  to  an  oriel  window  in  the  corri- 
dor, and  looked  out  into  the  little  garden.  Was  it 
mere  chance  that  the  thought  of  St.  Christopher 
came  into  his  mind?  He  also  considered  his  bur- 
den light  when  he  began  to  carry  the  child-stranger 
across  the  stream  on  his  strong  shoulder  ;  but  heavier 
and  heavier  the  burden  weighed  on  his  back,  and 
pressed  him  downwards  into  the  roaring  flood,  deep, 
deep,  so  that  his  courage  was  well-nigh  turned  into 
despair.  .  .  . 

The  abbot  had  ordered  a  magnificent  jug  to  be 
brought:  he  himself  went  with  it  to  the  well,  filled 
it,  and  returning  to  the  duchess,  said,  "  It  was  the  duty 
of  the  abbot  to  bring  water  to  strangers  for  them  to 
wash  their  hands,  as  well  as  their  feet  and  ..." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  the  duchess,  interrupting 
him.     She  spoke  in  a  decided  tone. 

Meanwhile  two  of  the  brothers  had  brought  down 
a  chest,  which  now  stood  open  in  the  passage.  Out 
of  this  the  abbot  drew  a  monk's  habit,  brand  new 
and  said  :  — 

"  Thus  I  create  the  illustrious  patron  of  our  mon- 
astery a  member  of  our  brotherhood,  and  in  token 
thereof  adorn  him  with  the  garb  of  our  order."  ^^ 

Frau  Hadwig  submitted.  She  lightly  bent  her 
knee,  as  she  received  the  cowl  from  his  hands  ;  she 
put  on  the  unaccustomed  garment,  and  it  fitted  her 


32  EKKEHARD 

well,  for  it  was  ample,  and  fell  in  folds,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  rule,  which  says :  — 

"The  abbot  is  to  keep  a  strict  look-out  that  the 
garments  shall  not  be  too  scanty,  but  well  fitted  to 
their  wearers." 

The  beautiful  rosy  countenance  looked  lovely  in 
the  brown  hood. 

"And  you  also  must  do  the  same,"  said  the  abbot 
to  the  followers  of  the  duchess.  Then  the  evil 
Sindolt  had  his  sport  in  helping  Herr  Spazzo  to 
don  the  garb. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  whispered  into  his  ear,  "  what 
obligations  this  cowl  imposes  upon  you?  That  on 
your  oath  you  renounce  the  lusts  of  this  world,  and 
promise  to  lead  henceforth  a  sober,  chaste,  and 
self-denying  life." 

Herr  Spazzo,  who  had  already  put  his  right  arm 
into  the  ample  gown  of  the  order,  pulled  it  out  again 
hastily.  "  Hold  on  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  vexation,  "  I 
protest  against  this ! "  Sindolt  burst  into  a  loud 
guffaw,  and  then, the  chamberlain  perceived  that  he 
was  not  quite  in  earnest,  and  said :  "  Brother,  you  are 
a  wag." 

Soon  the  vassals  we're  also  adorned  with  the  garb 
of  the  order,  but  the  beards  of  some  of  the  newly 
created  monks  descended  to  the  girdle,  contrary  to 
the  rules,  and  also  they  were  not  quite  canonical  as 
regarded  the  modest  casting  down  of  their  eyes. 33 

The  abbot  first  led  his  guests  into  the  church. 


WIBORADA    RECLUSA  33 


CHAPTER   III. 

WIBORADA    RECLUSA. 

OxE  of  those  who  were  least  delighted  by  the  unex- 
pected visitation  was  Romeias  the  watchman  at  the 
gate.  He  knew  pretty  well  yet  not  fully  what  was 
before  him.  While  the  abbot  was  receiving  the 
duchess,  Ceroid  the  steward  came  up  to  him  and 
said  :  — 

"  Romeias,  prepare  to  go  on  an  errand.  You  are 
to  tell  the  people  on  the  neighboring  farms  to  send 
before  evening  the  fowls  that  are  due,  34  as  they  will 
be  wanted  at  the  feast,  and  besides  you  are  to 
procure  a  good  supply  of  game." 

This  order  pleased  Romeias  well.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  that  he  had  been  to  ask  for  fowls,  and  the 
farmers  and  tavern-keepers  held  him  in  great  respect, 
for  he  had  a  commanding  manner  of  speaking. 
Hunting  was  at  all  times  the  delight  of  his  heart,  and 
so  Romeias  took  his  spear,  hung  the  cross-bow  over 
his  shoulder,  and  was  just  going  to  call  out  a  pack 
of  hounds,  when  Ceroid  the  steward  pulled  his 
sleeve  and  said :  — 

"  Romeias,  one  thing  more  !  You  are  to  escort 
the  duchess's  waiting-women,  who  have  been  for- 
bidden to  enter  the  monastery,  up  to  the  Schwarza- 
,V0L.  I.— 3 


34  EKKEHARD 

Thai,  and  present  them  to  the  pious  Wiborad,  who 
is  to  entertain  them  until  evening.  And  you  are  to 
be  v-ery  civil,  Romeias;  there  is  a  Greek  maid  among 
them  with  very  dark  eyes  ..." 

Then  three  deep  lines  darkened  Romeias's  brow, 
and  he  flung  his  hunting-spear  on  the  ground  with 
a  clatter.  "Escort  womenfolk?"  he  exclaimed. 
"  That  is  not  the  business  of  the  watchman  of  St. 
Gallus." 

But  Ceroid  nodded  toward  him  significantly  and 
said:  — 

"  Romeias,  you  must  try.  It  has  happened  that 
watchmen,  who  have  faithfully  performed  their  tasks, 
have  found  an  ample  jug  of  monastery  wine  in  their 
room  of  an  evening,  —  eh,  Romeias?" 

The  discontented  face  brightened  up,  and  he  went 
down  into  the  courtyard  to  let  out  the  hounds.  The 
blood-hound  and  the  beagle  jumped  up  on  him,  and 
the  little  beaver-puppy  also  set  up  a  joyous  bark, 
and  wanted  to  go  with  the  rest ;  35  but  with  a  con- 
temptuous kick  it  was  sent  back,  for  the  hunter  had 
nothing  to  do  with  fish-ponds  and  their  inhabitants. 
Surrounded  by  his  noisy  pack  of  hounds,  Romeias 
strode  out  of  the  gate.' 

Praxedis  and  the  duchess's  other  serving-women 
had  dismounted  from  their  horses  and  were  sitting 
on  a  sunny  sward,  chatting  away  about  monks  and 
cowls  and  beards,  and  the  strange  caprices  of  their 
mistress.  Then  Romeias  suddenly  appeared  before 
them  and  said  :  "  Come  on  ! " 

Praxedis  looked  at  the  rough  sportsman,  and  was 
not  quite  certain  what  to  make  of  him;    in  a  pert 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  35 

tone  of  voice  she  asked :  "  Where  to,  my  good 
friend?" 

Romeias  raised  his  spear  and  pointed  with  it  to  a 
neighboring  hill  behind  the  woods,  but  said  nothing. 

Then  Praxedis  called  out :  "  Are  words  so  costly 
here  in  St.  Gall,  that  you  can't  give  any  other  answer  ?  " 

The  serving-women  laughed.  % 

Then  Romeias  said  solemnly  :  "  May  a  thunder- 
bolt strike  you  all  seven  fathom  underground  !  " 

Praxedis  replied :  "  We  thank  you,  good  friend." 
This  formed  the  appropriate  introduction  to  a  con- 
versation. Romeias  explained  his  commission  and 
the  women  followed  him  willingly  enough. 

Romeias  gradually  found  that  it  was  not  the  hard- 
est work  to  accompany  such  guests,  and  when  the 
Greek  maid  asked  him  particularly  about  his  duties 
as  a  watchman,  and  the  business  of  hunting,  his 
tongue  was  loosened,  and  he  even  related  his  great 
adventure  with  the  terrible  wild  boar,  into  whose 
side  he  had  thrown  his  spear  and  yet  could  not  kill 
it,  for  one  of  its  feet  would  have  loaded  a  cart,  and 
its  bristles  stood  up  as  high  as  a  pine-tree,  and  its 
tusks  were  twelve  yards  long  at  the  least  ^^ 

After  this  he  grew  still  more  civil,  for  when  the 
Greek  once  stopped  to  listen  to  the  warbling  of  a 
thrush,  he  also  waited  patiently,  though  a  song-bird 
was  far  too  miserable  a  piece  of  game  for  him  to 
honor  with  much  notice ;  and  when  Praxedis  bent 
down  for  a  pretty  golden-beetle  crawling  about  in 
the  reddish  moss,  Romeias  politely  tried  to  push  the 
beetle  toward  her  with  his  heavy  boot,  and  if  in 
doing  so  he  crushed  it  instead,  it  was  certainly  not 
intentionally. 


36  EKKEHARD 

They  climbed  up  a  wild,  steep  wood-path,  beside 
which  the  Schwarza-brook  ran  over  jagged  conglom- 
erate rocks.  On  that  slope  St.  Gallus  had  once 
fallen  among  thorns,  and  had  said  to  his  companion, 
who  wanted  to  lift  him  up :  "  Here  let  me  lie,  for 
here  shall  be  my  resting-place  and  my  abode  for 
all  time."' 37 

They  had  not  walked  very  far  up  the  mountain- 
side, before  they  came  to  a  clearing  in  the  fir-wood, 
where,  leaning  against  the  sheltering  rocks,  stood  a 
simple  chapel  in  the  shape  of  a  cross.  Close  to  it 
a  square  hut  was  built,  also  backing  against  the 
rock.  It  apparently  had  only  one  tiny  window  with 
a  wooden  shutter.  It  had  no  door  or  other  mode 
of  entrance,  and  it  was  a  problem  how  a  person 
could  obtain  admittance  into  such  a  building  unless 
by  climbing  down  from  the  side  of  the  crag  and 
entering  through  a  hole  in  the  roof.  Opposite  stood 
another  hut  exactly  like  it,  having  also  but  one  little 
window. 

It  was  customary  at  that  time  for  those  who  in- 
clined to  the  monastic  life,  and  who,  as  St.  Bene- 
dict says,  *^  felt  strong  enough  to  fight  with  the 
Devil  without  the  assistance  of  pious  companions, 
to  have  themselves  immured  in  such  a  den  as  that. 
They  were  called  "Reclausi"  (recluses,  hermits), 
and  their  usefulness  and  aim  in  life  might  be  well 
compared  to  that  of  the  Pillarists  in  Egypt.  Sharp 
winter  winds,  and  the  deep  snows  on  this  side  of 
the  Alps  rendered  their  exposure  in  the  open  air 
impossible,  but  the  longing  for  an  anchorite's  life 
was  no  less  strong.39 


WIBORADA    RECLUSA  37 

Within  those  four  narrow  walls  on  Erin  Hill  lived 
the  Sister  Wiborad,'*^  a  far-famed  recluse  of  her 
time. 

She  came  from  Klingnau  in  Aargau,  and  had  been 
a  proud  and  prudish  virgin,  skilled  in  many  arts  ; 
and  she  had  learned  from  her  brother  Hitto  to  recite 
all  the  Psalms  in  Latin,  and  formerly  she  had  not 
been  disinclined  to  sweeten  the  life  of  some  man  or 
other,  provided  she  could  find  the  right  one,  but  the 
flower  of  the  youth  at  Aargau  found  no  grace  in  her 
eyes,  and  one  day  she  set  out  on  ,a  pilgrimage  to 
Rome.  There,  in  the  holy  city  her  restless  mind 
must  have  undergone  some  great  shock,  but  none 
of  her  contemporaries  ever  knew  in  what  way.  For 
three  entire  days  her  brother  Hitto  ran  up  and  down 
the  Forum  through  the  halls  of  the  Colosseum,  and 
the  triumphal  arch  of  Constantine,  to  the  four-faced 
Janus  near  the  Tiber,  seeking  for  his  sister  and  not 
finding  her ;  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  she 
walked  in  at  the  Salarian  gate,  and  she  carried 
her  head  high,  and  her  eyes  gleamed  strangely, 
and  she  said  that  things  would  not  be  right  in  the 
world  until  the  due  amount  of  veneration  was  shown 
unto  St.  Martin. 

And  when  she  returned  to  her  home,  she  trans- 
ferred all  her  wealth  to  the  bishop's  church  at  Con- 
stance, on  condition  that  the  priests  should  hold  a 
special  festival  in  honor  of  St.  Martin  every  year  on 
the  nth  of  November.  She  herself  went  to  live  in 
a  small  house,  the  former  hermitage  of  the  holy 
Zilia,  and  there  led  a  conventual  life.  But  as  it 
never  agreed  with  her  there  she  betook  herself  to 

4474M 


38  EKKEHARD 

the  valley  of  St.  Gallus.  The  bishop  himself  es- 
corted her  to  the  Erin  Hill,  put  the  black  veil  on 
her  head,  and  led  her  into  the  cell,  and  pronounced 
the  benediction  ;  it  was  he  who  laid  the  first  stone 
with  which  the  entrance  was  closed  up,  and  he 
imprinted  his  seal  four  times  on  the  lead  with  which 
the  stones  were  soldered,  setting  her  apart  from  the 
world,  and  the  monks  chanted  sad  solemn  strains, 
as  if  it  were  a  burial. 

The  people  thereabout  held  the  recluse  in  high 
honor.  They  called  her  a  "  hard-forged  teacher,"  *i 
and  on  many  a  Sunday  they  flocked  to  the  meadow 
before  her  cell,  and  Wiborad  stood  at  her  window, 
and  preached  to  them,  and  other  women  went  to  live 
in  her  neighborhood  to  be  instructed  by  her  in 
all    the  virtues. 

"  We  have  reached  our  destination,"  said  Romeias. 
Then  Praxedis  and  her  companions  looked  around. 
Not  a  human  being  was  to  be  seen.  Belated  butter- 
flies and  beetles  buzzed  in  the  sunshine  and  the 
cricket  chirped  merrily  m  the  grass.  The  shutter 
at  VViborad's  window  was  almost  closed,  so  that 
but  a  scanty  ray  of  sunshine  could  penetrate.  The 
monotonous  hollow  half-nasal  tones  of  a  person 
chanting  psalms  broke  the  silence. 

Romeias  knocked  on  the  shutter  with  his  spear, 
but  it  remained  closed  as  before  ;  the  chanting  w^ent 
on.  Then  the  watchman  said :  "  We  must  rouse 
her  some  other  way." 

Romeias  was  rather  a  rough  sort  of  man,  or  he 
would  not  have  done  as  he  now  did. 

Ke  began  singing  a  song,  such  as  he  often  sang 


WIBORADA    RECLUSA  39 

to  amuse  the  monastery  pupils,  when  they  stole  off 
into  his  watch-tower  to  pull  his  beard  or  play  on  his 
big  horn.  It  was  one  of  those  ditties  which,  ever 
since  there  was  a  German  tongue,  have  been  sung 
by  the  thousand,  on  hillsides  and  highways,  on  cross- 
roads and  in  woody  dells,  and  the  wind  has  carried 
them  on  and  spread  them  further.     It  ran  as  follows : 

*'  I  know  all  oak-tree  decked  with  green, 
That  stands  amid  a  grove  ; 
There  calls  and  coos  from  mom  till  e'en 
A  beauteous  cushat-dove. 

"  I  know  a  noisy  noisome  crag 

With  screams  and  croaking  frightful : 
There  nests  a  dun-gray  shapeless  hag  :  — 
A  barn-owl  *  hoarse  and  spiteful. 

•*  The  huntsman's  horn  rings  clear  and  sweet, 
His  arrow  death  will  cherish  : 
The  cushat-dove  with  song  I  greet, 
The  owl  I  doom  to  perish." 

Romeias's  song  had  about  the  same  effect  as  if 
he  had  thrown  a  heavy  stone  against  Wiborad's 
shutter.  Instantly  there  appeared  a  figure  at  the 
little  square  window ;  above  the  scrawny  neck  rose 
the  pale  ghastly  face  of  a  woman  whose  mouth  had 
assumed  a  hostile  relation  toward  the  nose.  Hidden 
by  a  dark  veil,  she  bent  out  of  the  little  window  as 
far  as  she  could,  and  her  eyes  flashed  ominously: 

"  Art  thou  come  back,  Satanas  ? "  she  cried. 

*  German:  Schleiereulc,  the  syllable  Schleter  meaning  "a 
veil,"  hence  the  covert  sting. 


40  EKKEHARD 

Romeias  then  advanced  a  few  steps  and  said 
complacently  :  — 

"  Nay,  the  Evil  One  knows  no  such  fine  songs 
as  Romeias  the  monastery  watchman  does.  Calm 
yourself,  Sister  Wiborad  ;  I  bring  you  some  dainty 
damsels  whom  the  abbot  warmly  recommends  to 
your  kind  reception." 

"Take  yourselves  off,  ye  deceiving  phantoms!" 
screamed  the  recluse.  "  I  know  the  snares  of  the 
Tempter.     Hence,  begone  ! "' 

But  Praxedis  now  approached  the  window,  and 
humbly  dropping  a  low  courtesy  to  the  old  hag,  ex- 
plained to  her  that  she  came  not  from  hell  but  from 
the  Hohentwiel.  The  Greek  maiden  could  be  just 
a  little  deceitful,  for  though  up  to  that  time  she  had 
known  nothing  about  the  cell  and  its  inhabitant,  she 
added  that  she  had  already  heard  so  much  of  Sister 
Wiborad's  edifying  life  that  she  had  availed  herself 
of  the  first  opportunity  of  paying  her  a  visit. 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  some  of  the  wrinkles  on 
Wiborad's  forehead  began  to  disappear.  "  Give  me 
thy  hand,  stranger,"  said  she,  stretching  out  her  arm, 
which,  as  the  sleeve  fell  back  a  little,  could  be  seen 
in  all  its  skinny  leanness. 

Praxedis  held  up  her  right  hand,  and  as  the  recluse 
touched  with  her  dry  fingers  the  soft  warm  hand 
with  its  throbbing  pulses,  she  became  slowly  con- 
vinced that  the  young  girl  was  a  being  of  flesh  and 
blood.  '^ 

Romeias  perceived  this  change  for  the  better  and 
rolled  some  big  stones  under  the  window  of  the  cell. 

"  In  two  hours   I  shall  be  back  to  fetch  you  ;  — 


WIBOKADA   RECLUSA  4 1 

God  bless  you,  virgins  all,"  he  said  aloud,  and  then 
added  in  a  whisper  to  the  Greek  maid,  "  and  don't  be 
frightened  if  she  should  fall  into  one  of  her  trances." 

Whistling  to  his  dogs  he  strode  toward  the  forest. 
The  first  thirty  steps  or  so  he  met  no  impediment: 
then  he  turned  his  shaggy  head  round,  and  then  his 
whole  body;  leaning  on  his  spear  he  gazed  intently 
at  the  spot  before  the  cell  as  if  he  had  lost  something. 
Yet  he  had  forgotten  nothing. 

Praxedis  smiled  and  kissed  her  hand  to  the  rudest 
of  all  watchmen.  Then  Romeias  quickly  turned 
round  again,  tried  to  shoulder  his  spear,  dropped 
it,  picked  it  up  again,  stumbled,  saved  himself,  and 
finally  vanished  at  a  swift  pace  behind  the  moss- 
grown  stems. 

"  Oh,  thou  child  of  the  world,  groping  in  darkness," 
scolded  the  recluse,  "  what  meant  that  movement  of 
thy  hand?" 

"  A  mere  jest,"  replied  Praxedis,  artlessly. 

"  A  sin,"  cried  Wiborad  in  harsh  accents.  Praxe- 
dis was  startled.  "  Oh,  the  Devil's  works  and  delu- 
sions ! "  continued  the  other  with  her  sermon.  "  There 
you  cast  your  eyes  slily  about  until  they  enter  a 
man's  heart  like  lightning,  and  kiss  your  hands  to 
him  as  if  that  were  nothing  !  Is  it  nothing  that  he 
gazes  back  who  ought  to  gaze  forwards?  No  man 
having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  looking  back, 
is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  '*^  '  A  jest  ? '  Oh,  give 
me  hyssop  to  take  away  your  sin,  and  snow  to  wash 
you  clean  ! " 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that,"  admitted  Praxedis, 
blushing. 


42  EKKEHARD 

"There  are  so  many  things  of  which  you  do  not 
think."  She  looked  critically  at  Praxedis  from  head 
to  foot.  "  And  you  do  not  think  that  you  are  wear- 
ing this  day  a  bright  green  garment,  and  all  such 
flaring  colors  are  an  abomination  unto  those  who 
have  banished  all  worldly  thoughts;  and  that  thy 
girdle  is  tied  so  loosely  and  negligently  round  thy 
waist,  as  if  thou  wert  a  public  dancer.  Watch  and 
pray ! " 

The  recluse  disappeared  for  a  few  moments,  then 
returned  and  held  out  a  coarsely  twisted  cord. 

"  I  pity  thee,  poor  turtle-dove,"  *  she  said.  "  Tear 
off  thy  embroidered  silken  finery  and  take  the  girdle 
of  self-denial  from  Wiborad's  own  hand  ;  let  it  be  a 
warning  to  thee  to  have  done  with  all  vain  talkings 
and  doings.  And  if  thou  shouldst  again  feel  the 
temptation  of  an  idle  heart  to  kiss  thy  hand  to  a 
watchman,  turn  thy  head  toward  the  east  and  chant 
the  psalm,  "Make  haste,  oh  God,  to  deliver  me;" 
and  if  even  then  peace  will  not  come  to  thee,  then 
light  a  wax  candle,  and  hold  thy  fore-finger  over  the 
flame,  and  thou  wilt  be  saved ;  ^^  for  fire  alone  cures 
fire." 

Praxedis  cast  down 'her  eyes. 

"Your  words  are  bitter,"  she  said. 

"  Bitter  !  "  exclaimed  the  recluse.  "  Praised  be 
the  Lord  that  no  sweet  taste  dwells  on  my  lips! 
The  mouth  of  saints  must  be  bitter.  When  Pacho- 
mius  sat  in  the  desert,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  came 
unto  him,  took  the  leaves  from    a   laurel-tree,   and 

*  German  :  Lachtaube^  i.  e.,  "laughing  dove;  "  a  common  name 
ailso  for  a  merry  girl. 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  43 

writing  some  holy  words  of  prayer  on  them  gave 
them  to  Pachomius  and  said  :  '  Swallow  these  leaves, 
they  will  be  as  bitter  as  gall  in  thy  mouth,  but  they 
will  make  thy  heart  overflow  with  true  wisdom/ 
And  Pachomius  took  the  leaves  and  ate  them,  and 
from  that  moment  his  tongue  became  bitter,  but  his 
heart  was  filled  with  sweetness,  and  he  praised  the 
Lord."  44 

Praxedis  said  nothing,  and  there  ensued  a  silence 
which  was  not  interrupted  for  some  time.  The 
duchess's  other  maids  had  all  vanished,  for  when  the 
recluse  had  handed  out  her  girdle,  they  nudged  each 
other  and  quietly  glided  round  the  hut.  They  were 
now  gathering  bunches  of  heather  and  autumnal 
flowers,  giggling  at  what  they  had  witnessed. 

"  Shall  we  also  put  on  such  a  belt  ?  "  asked  one  of 
them. 

"Yes,  when  the  sun  rises  black,"  replied  the  other. 

Praxedis  had  put  the  cord  into  the  grass. 

"  I  do  not  like  robbing  you  of  your  girdle,"  she 
now  said  shyly. 

"  Oh,  the  simplicity  !  "  exclaimed  Wiborad.  "  The 
girdle  that  we  wear  is  no  toy  like  the  one  that  I  gave 
thee.  Wiborad's  girdle  is  an  iron  hoop  with  blunted 
spikes;  it  clinks  like  a  chain  and  cuts  into  the  flesh, 
—  thou  wouldst  shudder  at  the  mere  sight  of  it."  ^^ 

Praxedis  took  several  steps  in  the  direction  of  the 
wood,  as  if  to  see  whether  Romeias  was  not  yet  to 
be  seen  returning.  The  recluse  probably  noticed 
that  her  guest  was  not  enjoying  herself  particularly, 
and  she  held  out  to  her  a  board,  on  which  lay  half-a- 
dozen  reddish-green  apples. 


44  EKKEHARD 

"  Does  time  pass  slowly  for  thee,  child  of  the 
world  ?  "  she  asked.  "  There,  take  these,  if  words 
of  grace  do  not  satisfy  thee.  Cakes  and  sweet-meats 
have  I  none,  but  these  apples  are  fair  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord.     They  are  the  nourishment  of  the  poor.'' 

The  Greek  maid  knew  what  politeness  required. 
But  they  were  crab-apples!  When  she  had  half 
eaten  one,  her  pretty  mouth  looked  awry,  and  invol- 
untary tears  started  into  her  eyes. 

"  How  do  they  taste  ?  "  cried  the  recluse. 

Then  Praxedis  pretended  that  the  remaining  half 
fell  by  chance  from  her  hand. 

"  If  the  Creator  had  made  all  apples  as  sour  as 
these,"  she  said  with  a  bitter-sweet  smile,  "  Eve 
would  never  have  eaten  of  the  apple." 

Wiborad  was  offended.  "  'T  is  well,"  said  she, 
"that  thou  dost  not  forget  the  storj- of  Eve.  She 
had  the  same  tastes  as  thou,  and  therefore  sin  came 
into  the  world."  ^^ 

The  Greek  maid  looked  up  at  the  sky,  but  not  from 
emotion.  A  solitary  hawk  was  flying  in  circles  over 
Wiborad's  hut.  "  Oh  that  I  could  fly  with  thee, 
over  the  Bodensee  !  "  she  thought.  Then  she  shook 
her  head. 

"  What  must  I  do,"  she  inquired,  '•  to  become  as 
perfect  as  you  are  ?  " 

"  Entirely  to  renounce  the  world,"  replied  Wibo- 
rad, '•  is  a  grace  from  above  ;  man  cannot  acquire  it 
by  himself.  Fasting,  drinking  of  pure  w^ater,  casti- 
gating the  flesh  and  reciting  of  psalms,  —  all  these 
are  mere  preparations.  The  most  important  thing 
is  a  good   patron-saint.     We  women   are  but   frail 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  45 

creatures,  but  fervent  prayer  brings  the  champions 
of  God  to  our  side  to  assist  us.  Look  at  this  little 
window  :  here  he  often  stands  in  lonely  nights,  — 
he,  the  chosen  of  my  heart,  the  valiant  Bishop  Mar- 
tin, and  holds  out  his  lance  and  shield,  to  protect 
me  from  the  raging  devils.  An  aureole  of  blue 
flames  crowns  his  head,  flashing  through  the  dark- 
ness like  summer  hghtning,  and  as  soon  as  he  ap- 
pears the  demons  fly  away  shrieking.  And  when  the 
battle  is  over,  then  he  enters  into  friendly  com 
munion  with  me.  I  tell  him  all  that  weighs  on  my 
poor  heart ;  — all  the  grief  the  women  who  are  neigh- 
bors cause  me,  and  the  wrong  which  I  suffer  from 
the  monastery  folk  ;  and  the  saint  nods  to  me  and 
shakes  his  curly  head,  and  all  that  I  tell  him  he 
carries  to  heaven  and  repeats  it  to  his  friend  the 
Archangel  Michael,  who  keeps  watch  every  Monday, 
before  the  throne  of  God  Almighty.'*'^  There  it 
comes  to  the  right  spot,  and  Wiborad  the  last  of 
the  least  in  the  service  of  the  High-enthroned  is 
not  forgotten.  .  ,  ." 

"  Then  I  also  will  choose  St.  Martin  to  become 
my  patron-saint,"  exclaimed  Praxedis. 

But  this  had  not  been  the  aim  of  Wiborad 's 
praises.  She  threw  a  contemptuous  jealous  look  on 
the  young  rosy  girl's  cheeks. 

"  The  Lord  pardon  you  your  presumption ! " 
cried  she,  with  folded  hands.  "  Do  you  believe  that 
this  can  be  done  with  a  flippant  word  and  smooth 
face  .-^  Indeed !  Many  long  years  have  I  striven 
and  borne  on  my  brow  the  wrinkles  of  self-mortifica- 
tion like  scars,  — and  he  did  not  favor  me  even  with 


46  EKKEHARD 

one  single  look  !  He  is  a  high  and  mighty  saint,  a 
valiant  soldier  of  the  Lord,  and  he  looks  only  on 
those  of  us  who  have  fulfilled  the  tests  and  won  the 
battle." 

"  He  will  not  rudely  shut  his  ears  against  my 
prayers,"  interrupted  Praxedis. 

"  But  you  shall  not  pray  to  him,"  cried  Wiborad, 
angrily.  "  Don't  you  dare  pray  to  him  !  What  has 
he  to  do  with  you  ?  For  such  as  you  there  are 
other  patron-saints.  I  will  name  you  one.  Choose 
the  pious  Father  Pachomius  for  your  patron." 

"  I  do  not  know  him,"  said  Praxedis. 

"  Bad  enough ;  then  it  is  high  time  for  you  to 
know  him.  He  was  a  venerable  hermit  who  lived  in 
the  Theban  desert,  and  ate  roots  and  locusts.  He 
was  so  pious  that  even  in  his  life-time  he  heard  the 
music  of  the  spheres  and  planets  and  often  said : 
*  If  all  men  could  hear  what  has  been  vouchsafed 
my  ears  to  hear,  they  would  forsake  houses  and  lands, 
and  he  who  had  put  on  the  right  shoe  would  leave 
the  left  one  behind  and  hasten  to  the  East.'  Now 
in  Alexandria  there  was  a  maid  whose  name  was 
Thais,  and  no  one  could  tell  which  was  greater,  her 
beauty  or  her  frivolity.  Then  said  Pachomius : 
'Such  a  woman  is  a  plague  for  the  whole  land  of 
Egypt,'  and  he  arose,  cut  his  beard,  anointed  himself, 
and  mounted  a  crocodile  which  by  prayer  he  had 
made  subservient  to  himself,  and  on  its  scaly  back 
he  was  carried  down  the  Nile ;  and  he  went  to  Thais 
as  if  he  were  a  lover.  His  big  palm-tree  stick  he 
had  taken  with  him,  and  he  shook  the  sinner's  heart 
so  that  she  burnt  up  her  silken  robes  as  well  as  her 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  47 

finery,  and  followed  Pachomius  as  a  lamb  does 
the  shepherd.  And  he  shut  her  up  in  a  rock  tomb, 
leaving  only  a  tiny  window  in  it,  and  he  instructed 
her  in  prayer,  and  after  five  years  her  purification 
was  completed,  and  four  angels  carried  her  soul  up 
to  heaven. "'^s 

But  Praxedis  was  not  much  edified. 

"  The  old  hermit  with  his  rough  beard  and  bitter 
lips  is  not  distinguished  enough  for  her,"  she  thought, 
"and  so  I  am  to  take  him  for  myself,"  but  she  dared 
not  to  say  so. 

Now  the  vesper  bell  at  the  monastery  below  the 
pine  woods  began  to  ring.  The  recluse  stepped 
back  from  the  window  and  closed  her  shutter.  The 
hollow  sound  of  psalm-chanting  was  heard  again, 
accompanied  by  the  noise  like  falling  strokes.  She 
was  flagellating  herself. 

Meanwhile  Romeias  had  begun  his  sport  in  the 
distant  forest,  and  thrown  his  spear  —  but  he  had 
mistaken  an  oak  stump  for  a  young  deer.  Angrily 
he  pulled  out  his  weapon  from  the  tenacious  wood ; 
it  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  such  a  thing 
had  happened  to  him. 

Before  Wiborad's  cell  silence  reigned  for  a  time. 
Then  her  voice  was  again  heard,  but  quite  altered ; 
the  tones  full  and  vibrating  with  passion :  — 

"Come  down,  holy  Martin;  valiant  champion  of 
God  ;  thou  consolation  of  my  solitude  ;  star  in  the 
darkness  of  time.  Descend  !  My  soul  is  ready  to 
behold  thee  ;  mine  eyes  thirst  for  thee."  ^^ 

And  again  it  was  still  in  the  clearing.  Then 
Praxedis  started  with  terror.     A  hollow  shriek  rang: 


48  EKKEHARD 

out  from  within  the  cell.  She  sprang  to  the  window 
and  looked  in.  The  recluse  was  prostrate  on  her 
knees,  her  arms  were  extended  beseechingly,  her 
eyes  had  a  lixed,  stony  expression.  Beside  her  lay 
the  scourge,  the  instrument  of  her  penance. 

"  For  God's  sake,"  cried  Praxedis,  "  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  .?  " 

Wiborad  jumped  up,  and  pressed  the  Greek  maid- 
en's hand  convulsively.  "  Child  of  Earth,"  said  she 
in  broken  accents,  "who  hast  been  deemed  wor- 
thy to  witness  the  agonies  of  Wiborad,  strike  thy 
bosom ;  for  a  token  has  been  given.  He,  the  elect 
of  my  soul,  did  not  come;  he  is  offended  that  his 
name  has  been  profaned  by  unholy  lips;  but  the 
holy  Gallus  appeared  to  my  souFs  eye,  —  he  who 
never  before  deigned  to  visit  my  cell,  —  and  his  coun- 
tenance was  that  of  a  sufferer,  and  his  garments  were 
torn  and  burnt.  His  monastery  is  threatened  by 
disaster.  We  must  pray  that  his  disciples  stumble 
not  in  the  path  of  righteousness." 

She  leaned  out  of  the  narrow  window,  and  called 
out  to  the  neighboring  hermitage  :  — 

"  Sister  Wendelgard  !  " 

Then  the  shutter  opposite  was  opened,  and  an 
aged  face  appeared.  It  was  the  excellent  Frau 
Wendelgard,  who  in  that  fashion  was  niourning  for 
her  spouse,  who  had  never  returned  from  the  last 
wars. 

"  Sister  Wendelgard,"  said  Wiborad,  "  let  us  sing 
three  times,  *  Be  merciful  unto  us,  O  Lord  !  '" 

But  the  Sister  Wendelgard  had  just  been  thinking 
with   ecstatic   yearning  of   her  husband.     She  had 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  49 

firm  trust  in  God,  and  knew  that  some  day  he  would 
return  from  the  land  of  the  Huns,  and  she  would 
have  liked  best  there  and  then  to  kick  open  the 
door  of  her  cell,  to  march  out  into  the  free  air  and 
meet  him. 

"  It  is  not  the  time  for  psalm-singing,"  she  replied. 

"  So  much  the  more  acceptable  is  voluntary  devo- 
tion rising  up  to  Heaven,"  said  Wiborad;  and  with 
her  rough  voice  she  intoned  the  psalm.  But  the 
expected  response  did  not   come. 

"  Why  dost  thou  not  join  me  in  singing  David's 
song.?  " 

"Because  I  don't  wish  to  do  so,"  was  Sister 
Wendelgard's  unceremonious  reply. 

The  fact  was  that  she  had  at  last  grown  weary  of 
her  long  seclusion.  Many  thousand  psalms  had  she 
sung  at  Wiborad's  bidding,  in  order  to  induce  St. 
Martin  to  deliver  her  husband  from  the  power  of 
the  infidels ;  but  the  sun  rose  and  the  sun  set  daily, 
—  and  yet  he  never  came.  And  so  she  was  dis- 
gusted with  her  gaunt  neighbor,  with  her  visions 
and  phantasms. 

Wiborad,  however,  turned  her  eyes  steadily  up- 
wards, like  one  who  thinks  to  discover  a  comet  in 
clear  daylight. 

"  Oh,  thou  vessel  full  of  disobedience  and  wicked- 
ness," she  cried,  "  I  will  pray  for  thee,  that  the 
evil  spirits  may  be  driven  out  of  thee.  Thine  eye 
is  blind,  thy  mind  is  dark." 

But  the  other  quietly  replied :  — 

"Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  judged.  My  eyes  are 
as  clear  as  they  were  a  year  ago,  when,  one  moon- 
VOL.  I. — 4 


50  EKKEHARD 

light  night,  they  saw  you  getting  out  of  your  window 
and  going  away  Heaven  knows  where ;  and  my 
mind  still  refuses  to  believe  that  prayers  coming 
from  such  a  mouth  can  work  miracles." 

Then  Wiborad's  pale  face  became  distorted  as 
if  she  had  bitten  a  pebble. 

"  Woe  to  thee  whom  the  Devil  has  deluded  !  "  she 
screamed,  and  a  flood  of  scolding  words  streamed 
from  her  lips ;  but  her  neighbor  knew  well  how  to 
answer  her  in  kind. 

Quicker  and  quicker  the  words  came,  confusing 
and  mixing  themselves  together,  while  the  rocky 
walls  threw  back  inharmonious  echoes,  and  fright- 
ened a  pair  of  little  owlets,  which  left  their  cranny 
nest  and  flew  away  screeching.  When  the  two 
queens  *  were  scolding  each  other  in  the  portal  of 
the  Cathedral  at  Worms,  it  was  amiability  compared 
to  this. 

In  mute  astonishment,  Praxedis  listened  to  the 
noise;  she  felt  moved  to  interfere  and  make  peace; 
but  a  soft  thing  fares  ill  between  two  sharp  ones. 

But  now  the  cheering  notes  of  a  hunting-horn  and 
the  loud  barking  of  dogs  were  heard  from  the  wood ; 
leisurely  came  the  tall  figure  of  Romeias  striding 
along. 

When  he  threw  his  spear  the  second  time,  it  hit 
not  a  stump,  but  a  magnificent  stag  of  ten  antlers. 
It  hung  down  over  his  shoulder;  and  he  carried 
fastened  to  his  belt  six  hares  which  the  monastery 
farmer  of  Tablatt  had  caught  in  snares. 

And  when  the  huntsman  beheld  the  recluses  quar- 

*  Chriemhilde  and  Brunhilde. 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  51 

relling  his  heart  rejoiced.  Without  saying  a  word, 
he  loosened  two  of  the.  Hving  hares,  and  swinging 
one  in  each  hand,  he  threw  them  so  dexterously  into 
the  narrow  little  windows,  that  Wiborad,  as  she  felt 
the  soft  fur  brushing  past  her  head  Hke  an  electric 
shock,  started  back  with  a  loud  scream.  The  worthy 
Wendelgard's  black  habit  had  loosened  itself  in  the 
heat  of  the  discussion,  and  the  hare,  suddenly  get- 
ting entangled  between  her  bosom  and  her  cowl, 
and  vainly  trying  to  discover  an  outlet,  caused  her 
no  small  fright.  So  both  stopped  their  scolding, 
closed  the  shutters,  and  there  was  silence  again  on 
Erin  HilL^o 

".  We  '11  go  home,"  said  Romeias  to  the  Greek 
maid,  "  for  it  is  getting  late."  Praxedis  was  not  so 
highly  edified,  either  by  the  quarrel  or  by  Romeias's 
way  of  making  peace,  that  she  cared  to  stay  any 
longer.  Her  companions,  following  their  own  in- 
clinations, were  already  on   their  way  back. 

"  Hares  cannot  be  worth  much  here,  as  you  throw 
them  about  so  unceremoniously/'  she  said  to  the 
watchman. 

"  Not  much,"  laughed  Romeias,  "  yet  the  present 
deserved  thanks,  at  least." 

That  instant  the  skylight  in  Wiborad's  roof  was 
thrown  open  ;  about  half  of  her  gaunt  lean  figure 
became  visible,  and  a  stone  of  some  weight  flew 
over  Romeias's  head,  without  hitting  him.  That 
was  her  way  of  thanking  him  for  the  hare. 

From  this  can  be  seen  that  the  forms  of  social 
intercourse  differed  widely  from  those  of  to-day. 

Praxedis  expressed  her  astonishment. 


5  2  EKKEHARD 

"  Oh,  such  things  happen  about  once  a  fortnight," 
explained  Romeias.  "  A  moderate  supply  of  venom 
and  wrath  gives  new  strength  to  such  old  hags^  and 
and  it  is  a  good  work  to  stir  them  up." 

"  But  she  is  a  saint,"  said  Praxedis,  shyly. 

At  that  Romeias  muttered  some  unintelligible 
words  in  his  beard.  '•  Well,"  said  he,  "  she  ought 
to  be  happy  if  she  is  one.  I  am  not  going  to  tear 
off  her  garb  of  sanctity.^^  But  since  I  was  at  Con- 
stance on  a  visit  to  my  aunts,  I  have  heard  all  sorts 
of  things  that  seem  not  quite  as  they  ought  to  be. 
It  has  not  yet  been  forgotten  in  those  parts  how  she 
had  to  defend  herself  before  the  bishop  on  account 
of  this  thing  and  that  thing  which  is  none  of  my 
business;  and  the  Constance  merchants  will  tell 
you,  without  your  asking  them,  that  the  recluses  near 
the  cathedral  lend  them,  at  usurious  interest,  the 
money  given  to  them  by  pious  pilgrims.  °2  it  w-as 
not  my  fault  that  once,  when  I  was  a  boy,  I  found 
in  a  quarry  a  strange  big  pebble.  When  I  ham- 
mered it  to  pieces  there  was  a  toad  in  the  middle, 
looking  very  much  astonished.  Since  then  I  know 
what  a  recluse  is  like.     Snip-snap  —  trari-trara  !  " 

Romeias  accompanied  his  new  friend  to  the  house 
which  lay  beyond  the  cloister  walls,  and  which  was 
destined  to  receive  her.  Before  it  the  other  maids 
were  standing,  and  the  posy  of  wild  flowers  they  had 
gathered  lay  on  a  stone  table  before  the  door, 

"  We  must  say  good-bye,"  said  the  watchman. 

'*  Farewell,"  said  Praxedis. 

So  he  went  away.  After  going  thirty  steps  he 
suddenly  turned  round,  —  but  the  sun  does  not  rise 


WIBORADA   RECLUSA  53 

twice  in  one  day ;  least  of  all  for  the  watchman  of  a 
monastery -gate  !  No  one  now  was  kissing  her  hand 
to  him.     Praxedis  had  entered  the  house. 

Then  Romeias  slowly  walked  back,  and  without 
troubling  himself  to  ask  leave,  hastily  took  up  the 
flowers  from  the  stone  table,  and  went  away.  The 
stag  and  four  hares  he  brought  to  the  kitchen.  After 
this  he  toiled  up  to  his  room  in  the  watch-tower, 
nailed  the  nosegay  to  the  wall,  and  with  a  piece  of 
charcoal,  drew  a  heart  under  it,  which  had  two  eyes, 
a  long  stroke  in  lieu  of  a  nose,  and  a  cross-line  for  a 
mouth. 

The  cloister-pupil  Burkhard  came  up  to  have  some 
sport  with  him.  Romeias  seized  him  with  a  power- 
ful grasp,  held  out  the  charcoal,  and  placing  him 
before  the  wall,  said :  "  There,  write  the  name 
under  it !  " 

"  What  name  ?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"Hers,"  commanded  Romeias. 

"What  do  I  know  about  her,  and  her  name," 
testily  replied  the  pupil. 

"  There,  one  can  see  again  what  the  good  of  study- 
ing is  !  "  grumbled  Romeias.  "  Every  day  the  boy 
sits  for  eight  hours  behind  his  asses'-skins,  and  does 
not  know  the  name  of  a  foreign  damsel !  " 


54  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER    IV. 

IN   THE   MONASTERY. 

Frau  Hadwig  had  meanwhile  been  performing  her 
devotions  at  the  tomb  of  St.  Gallus.  Then  the  abbot 
was  intending  to  propose  a  walk  in  the  shady 
cloister-garden,  but  she  asked  him  first  of  all  to  show 
her  the  treasures  of  the  church.  The  mind  of  woman, 
however  intellectual,  always  delights  in  ornaments, 
jewels,  and  fine  garments.  The  abbot  invented  some 
excuse  to  dissuade  her  from  this  wish,  saying  that 
theirs  was  but  a  poor  little  monastery,  and  that  his 
cousin  must  have  seen  far  better  things  on  her 
travels,  or  at  the  emperor's  court;  it  was  all  in 
vain. 

So  they  w^ent  to  the  sacristy. 

He  had  the  cupboards  opened  first.  Here  there 
was  much  to  admire  in  the  way  of  purple  chasubles 
and  embroidered  priest's  garments,  and  worked  pic- 
tures representing  sacred  history.  Here  and  there 
was  also  some  piece  strongly  reminding  one  of 
Roman  heathenism,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  mar- 
riage of  Mercury  with  Philolog)^ 

Then  large  chests  were  opened,  revealing  a  daz- 
zling array  of  precious  metals :  silver  lamps  and 
crowns;  finely  wrought  frames  of  beaten  gold  for  the 
holy  books  ;  and  ornaments  for  the  altar.  ^^  Monks, 
fastening  them  round  their  knees,  had  safely  brought 


J 


IN   THE  MONASTERY.  55 

these  things  from  Italy,  over  dangerous  alpine  paths : 
costly  vessels  in  all  sorts  of  curious  forms ;  can- 
dlesticks in  the  shape  of  dolphins ;  drinking-cups 
resting  on  pillars  like  lighthouses  ;  censers,  and  many 
other  beautiful  articles,  a  rich  treasure.  There  was 
also  a  chalice,  made  of  a  single  piece  of  amber,  which 
glistened  exquisitely  when  held  to  the  light.  A  small 
piece  was  broken  off  from  the  edge. 

"When  my  predecessor  Hartmuth  was  dying," 
said  the  abbot,  "that  little  bit  was  pulverized  and 
given  to  him,  mixed  with  wine  and  honey,  to  calm 
the    fever." 

In  the  middle  of  the  amber  was  a  tiny  fly,  as  well 
preserved  as  if  it  had  but  just  settled  down  there. 
Probably  the  little  insect,  sitting  contentedly  on  i^s 
blade  of  grass,  in  antediluvian  times,  when  the  liquid 
resin  streamed  over  it,  little  dreamed  that  it  would 
thus  be  bequeathed  to  far-off  generations. 

But  such  dumb  testimonials  of  Nature's  powers 
were  little  heeded  at  that  time.  At  least  the  cham- 
berlain Spazzo,  who  was  surveying  and  examining 
everything  with  a  careful  eye,  was  occupied  with 
very  different  ideas.  He  was  thinking  how  much 
pleasanter  it  would  be  to  be  on  war-terms  with  these 
pious  monks,  and  instead  of  enjoying  their  hospitality 
as  guests,  to  enter  by  storm,  and  carry  all  the  treas- 
ures away.  Having  witnessed  in  his  time  many  a 
reversal  of  friendship  between  the  high-born,  he  was 
inwardly  speculating  on  this  possibility,  and  keenly 
eyeing  the  entrance  to  the  sacristy,  he  murmured  to 
himself:  "  Coming  from  the  choir,  'tis  the  first  door 
to  the  right !  " 


56  EKKEHARD 

The  abbot,  who  probably  thought  likewise  that 
prolonged  examination  of  gold  and  silver  produced 
a  hankering  for  possession,  omitted  opening  the 
last  box,  which  contained  the  most  magnificent 
things  of  all,  and  urgently  proposed  going  into  the 
open  air. 

So  the  party  directed  their  steps  toward  the 
garden,  which  was  spacious,  and  produced  much 
vegetable  and  fruit  for  the  kitchen,  as  well  as  useful 
herbs  for  medicines. 

In  the  orchard  a  large  portion  was  divided  off 
and  reserved  for  wild  beasts  and  birds,  such  as 
were  to  be  found  in  the  neighboring  Alps,  or  had 
been  sent  as  presents  by  foreign  guests.°^ 
^  Frau  Hadwig  took  great  pleasure  in  looking  at 
the  rough  uncouth  bears,  which  were  funny  enough, 
climbing  up  and  down  on  the  tree  in  their  prison. 
Close  to  these  a  pug-nosed  ape  and  a  long-tailed 
monkey,  chained  together,  played  their  merry  gam- 
bols, —  two  creatures,  neither  of  which,  says  a  poet 
of  that  time,  can  show  a  single  trace  of  the  faculty 
of  making  itself  useful,  whereby  to  establish  a 
claim   to    existence. ^^ 

There  was  an  old  chamois  in  a  narrow  enclosure  : 
this  native  of  the  upper  Alps  let  his  head  droop, 
and  stood  immovable  and  humiliated.  Since  he 
had  been  deprived  of  the  keen  atmosphere  of  the 
glaciers,  he  had  become  blind;  for  not  every  crea- 
ture thrives  on  the  low  lands  where  men  dwell. 

In  another  cage  a  large  family  of  thick-skinned 
badgers  was  established.     On  passing  them  the   evil 


IN   THE   MONASTERY  57 

"  Hullo,  you  miserable  little  beasts,  chosen  game 
of  the  monastery  menials  !  " 

Then  in  another  direction  were  heard  shrill 
whistles :  a  troop  of  marmots  quickly  scuttled  off 
to  hide  themselves  in  the  chinks  and  crevices  of 
the  artificial  rockery.  Frau  Hadwig  had  never 
beheld  such  amusing  little  creatures  before.  The 
abbot  told  her  of  their  mode  of  life. 

"  They  sleep  more  than  any  other  creatures,"  said 
he  ;  "  and  even  when  they  are  awake  they  must  have 
their  wonderful  dreams,  for  when  winter  approaches, 
they  gather  up  grass  and  hay  wherever  they  find  it, 
and  one  of  them  lies  down  on  its  back,  and  sticks 
up  its  four  feet,  while  the  others  put  on  it  everything 
they  have  scraped  together,  and  then  seize  it  by 
the  tail,  and  drag  it  like  a  loaded  cart  into  their 
holes. ^'^ 

Then  said  Sindolt  to  the  stout  chamberlain 
Spazzo  :  "  What  a  pity  that  you  are  not  a  marmot ; 
that  would  have  been  a  charming  occupation  for 
you." 

When  the  abbot  had  gone  on,  the  evil  Sindolt 
began  to  give  a  new  sort  of  explanation :  "  That  is 
our  Tutilo,"  said  he,  —  pointing  to  a  bear  which  had 
just  thrown  down  one  of  its  companions,  —  "that 
the  blind  Thieto,"  —  pointing  to  the  chamois;  and 
he  was  on  the  point  of  honoring  the  abbot  with 
some  flattering  comparison,  when  the  duchess  in- 
terrupted him  by  saying  :  "  As  you  are  so  clever  in 
finding  comparisons,  have  you  one  for  me  also?" 

Sindolt  became  embarrassed.  Luckily  a  beautiful 
silver-pheasant   happened  to   be  standing   near  the 


58  EKKEHARD 

cranes  and  herons,  preening  its  shining  pearly  gray 
feathers  in  the  sunshine. 

"  There  !  "  said  Sindolt. 

But  the  duchess  turned  to  Ekkehard,  who  was 
dreamily  gazing  at  the  swarm  of  living  creatures. 

"  Do  you  agree  with  him  ?  "  asked  she. 

He  started  up.  "  Oh,  mistress  !  "  said  he,  in  soft 
tones,  "  who  is  so  audacious  as  to  compare  you  to 
anything  that  flies  or  crawls  here  ?  " 

"  But  if  we  desire  it  ?  "  .  .  . 

"  Then  I  only  know  of  one  bird,"  said  Ekkehard. 
"We  have  not  got  it,  nor  has  any  one;  in  star-lit 
midnights  it  flies  high  over  our  heads,  brushing  the 
sky  with  its  wings.  The  bird's  name  is  Caradrion ; 
and  when  its  pinions  touch  the  earth  a  sick  man  is 
healed.  Then  the  bird,  inchning  toward  the  man, 
opens  its  beak  over  his  mouth,  and  taking  the  man's 
sickness  unto  itself,  journeys  to  the  sun,  and  puri- 
fies itself  in  the  eternal  light ;  and  the  man  is 
saved."  ^s 

The  abbot's  return  put  a  stop  to  further  compar- 
isons. One  of  the  serving  brothers  was  sitting  in 
an  apple-tree,  picking  the  apples,  and  putting  them 
into  baskets.  When  the  duchess  came  into  the 
shadow  of  the  tree,  he  started  to  descend,  but  she 
made  him  a  sign  to  stop  where  he  was. 

Then  sounds  hke  the  singing  of  sweet  boyish 
voices  were  heard  in  the  lower  part  of  the  garden. 
The  younger  pupils  of  the  monastery  home  schools 
were  on  their  way  to  do  homage  to  the  duchess. 
Children  though  they  were,  the  little  fellows  already 
wore  the   cowl,  and  several   even   had   the  tonsure 


IN  THE   MONASTERY  59 

on  their  eleven-year-old  heads.  When  the  pro- 
cession of  little  rosy-cheeked  future  abbots  came 
in  sight,  with  down-cast  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground 
and  singing  their  sequences  so  seriously,  a  slight 
mocking  smile  played  round  Frau  Hadwig's  lips, 
and  with  strong  foot  she  upset  the  nearest  of  the 
baskets,  so  that  the  apples  rolled  about  merrily  on 
the  ground  in  the  midst  of  the  boys.  But  undis- 
tracted  they  proceeded  on  their  way ;  only  one  of 
the  youngest  started  to  pick  up  the  tempting  fruit,  but 
his  little  companion  held  him  firmly  by  the  girdle.°® 

Much  pleased,  the  abbot  witnessed  the  young 
folks'  excellent  behavior,  and  said,  "  Discipline  dis- 
tinguishes human  beings  from  animals,  ^'^  and  if  you 
were  to  throw  the  apples  of  the  Hesperides  among 
them,  they  would  remain  steadfast." 

Frau  Hadwig  was  touched.  "  Are  all  your  pupils 
so  well  trained  t  "   she  asked. 

"  If  you  like  to  be  convinced,"  said  the  abbot, 
"you  will  see  that  the  elder  ones  in  the  day  school 
know  quite  as  well  the  meaning  of  obedience  and 
submission." 

The  duchess  nodded  assent.  Then  the  abbot 
led  her  into  the  outer  monastery  school,  in  which 
the  sons  of  noblemen,  and  those  who  intended  to 
join   the  secular   clergy,  were   educated. 

They  entered  the  upper  class.  On  the  lecturer's 
platform  stood  Ratpert  the  learned,  who  was  train- 
ing his  pupils  in  Aristotle's  logic.  The  young 
scholars  sat  poring  over  their  parchments,  scarcely 
lifting  their  eyes  to  look  at  the  party  now  entering. 
The  teacher  thought  this  an  opportunity  to  gather 


60  EKKEHARD 

some  laurels.  "  Notker  Labeo !  "  he  called  out 
This  was  the  pearl  amongst  his  pupils,  the  hope  of 
science,  who  on  a  weakly  body  carried  a  powerful 
head,  with  an  under-lip  critically  protruding,  the 
symbol  of  great  determination  and  perseverance  on 
tne  stony  roads  of  investigation,  and  the  cause  of 
his  surname, 

"He  will  get  on,"  whispered  the  abbot.  "  When 
he  was  only  eleven  he  said  that  the  world  was  a 
book,  and  that  the  monasteries  were  the  classical 
passages  in  it."^^ 

The  young  man  in  question  let  his  wise  little  eyes 
glide  over  the  Greek  text,  and  then  translated  with 
impressive  gravity  the  profundity  of  the  Stagirite 
philosophy :  — 

If  on  a  stone  or  piece  of  wood  you  find  a  straight 
litie  running  tiwoiigh^  that  is  the  coniniofi  line  of 
demarcation  of  the  parts  that  are  in  contact.  If  the 
stone  or  wood  split  along  that  line,  then  we  behold 
two  intersections  7iear  the  visible  line  of  cleavage, 
where  there  was  only  one  line  before.  And  more- 
over, we  see  two  ?iew  surfaces  which  are  as  broad  as 
the  object  was  thick,  where  Just  before  one  could  see 
no  new  surface  at  all.  From  this  it  appears  that 
this  object  was  cohere nt.^'^ 

But  when  this  concept  of  the  Coherent  had  been 
happily  called  out,  some  of  the  young  logicians  put 
their  heads  together,  and  began  to  whisper,  and  the 
whispers  became  louder  and  louder; — even  the 
monastery-pupil  Hepidan,  who,  unmoved  by  Notker's 
capital  translation,  had  been  employing  all  his  skill 
in  carving  on  the  bench  before  him  a  devil  with  a 


IN   THE  MONASTERY  6 1 

double  pair  of  wings,  and  a  long  curling  tail,  stopped 
in  his  work.  Then  the  teacher  addressed  the  next 
boy,  with  the  question :  "  But  how  does  the  surface 
become  a  mutual  line  of  demarcation  ?  ''  The  youth 
read  the  Greek  text,  but  the  commotion  among  the 
school-benches  became  louder  still ;  there  was  a  buz- 
zing and  booming  like  distant  alarm-bells  ;  the  trans- 
lation ceased  altogether.  Suddenly,  with  a  wild  on- 
slaught, all  Ratpert's  pupils  rushed  up  noisily  toward 
the  duchess,  tore  her  from  between  the  abbot  and 
the  chamberlain,  shouting,  "  Captured,  captured  ! " 
and  while  making  barricades  with  the  benches,  they 
repeated  their  cries  :  "  Captured  !  the  duchess  of  Sua- 
bia-  is  our  prisoner  !     What  shall  be  her  ransom  ?  " 

Frau  Hadwig,  in  the  course  of  her  life,  had 
found  herself  in  various  situations ;  but  that  she 
could  ever  become  the  prisoner  of  schoolboys  had 
certainly  never  entered  her  head.  But  as  this  had 
the  charm  of  novelty,  she  submitted. 

Ratpert  the  teacher  took  out  of  his  cupboard 
a  mighty  rod,  and  swinging  it  threateningly  over 
his  head,  like  a  second  Neptune,  he  recited,  in  a 
thundering  voice,  the  verses  of  Vergil :  — 

taniane  vos  generis  tennit  fiducia  vestri  ? 
iam  caelitm  terratnqiie,  ineo  sine  ninnine,  vcnti, 
miscere,  ei  tantas  audetis  tollcre  moles  ? 
quos  ego  — 

"  Can,  oh,  ye  winds,  vain  trust  in  your  headstrong  tribe  so  mislead 

you 
That,  without  waiting  my  will,  ye  dare  to  raise  such  a  tumult, 
Mingling   the  waves  of   the  sea  and  the  clouds  of    the    sky  in 

confusion, 
Whom  I  ought—" 


62  EKKEHARD 

A  renewed  shout  was  the  answer.  The  room 
was  already  divided  by  a  wall  of  benches  and  stools. 
Herr  Spazzo  was  meditating  an  assault  and  vigorous 
blows  on  the  ring-leaders.  The  abbot  was  speech- 
less ;  this  audacity  had  paralyzed  his  faculties.  The 
highborn  prisoner  stood  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
schoolroom,  in  recess  of  a  window,  surrounded  by 
her  fifteen-years-old  captors. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this,  ye  wicked 
boys  ?  "  she  asked  with  a  smile. 

Then  one  of  the  rebels  advanced,  bent  his  knee 
before  her,  and  humbly  said  :  "  He  who  comes  as  a 
stranger  is  without  protection  or  peace;  and  un- 
peaceable  people  are  kept  prisoners,  until  they  have 
paid  a  ransom  for  their  liberty."  ^^ 

"  Do  you  learn  that  also  out  of  your  Greek 
books?''' 

"  No,  mistress ;  that  is  German  law." 

"  Very  well,  then ;  I  will  ransom  myself,"  said 
Frau  Hadwig.  And  laughing  merrily,  she  seized 
the  red-cheeked  logician  and  drew  him  toward  her 
to  kiss  him  ;  but  he  tore  himself  away,  and  joined  the 
noisy  ranks  of  his  companions,  crying :  — 

"  That  coin  we  do  not  recognize  !  " 

"  What  ransom  then  do  you  exact  ?  "  asked  the 
duchess,  who  was  fast  getting  impatient. 

"  The  Bishop  Salomo  of  Constance  was  also  our 
prisoner,"  replied  the  pupil,  "  and  he  obtained  for 
us  three  extra  holidays  in  the  year,  as  well  as  a 
feast  of  bread  and  meat,  and  furthermore  secured 
this   to  us  in  his  will."^ 

"  Oh,  gluttonous  youth  !  "  said  Frau  Hadwig. 


IN   THE   MONASTERY  63 

'-'■  Then  I  must  at  least  do  as  much  for  you  as  the 
bishop.  Have  you  ever  tasted  the  felchen  from 
the  Bodensee?  " 

"  No  !  "  shouted  the  boys. 

"Then  you  shall  receive  six  felchen  a  year  to 
remember  me  by.  This  fish  is  good  for  young 
beaks." 

"  Do  you  secure  this  to  us  with  your  name  and 
seal ?  " 

"  If  it  must  be  so,  yes." 

"  Long  life  to  the  duchess  of  Suabia  !  Hurrah  !  " 
was  now  shouted  on  all  sides.  "  Hurrah  !  she  is 
free."  The  school-benches  were  quickly  put  back 
in  order  and  the  passage  was  cleared  ;  jumping  and 
shouting  triumphantly  they  led  back  their  prisoner. 

In  the  background  the  parchment  leaves  of 
Aristotle  flew  up  into  the  air,  as  outward  signs  of 
joy.  Even  the  corners  of  Notker  Labeo's  mouth 
were  curved  in  a  broad  grin,  and  Frau  Hadwig 
said :  — 

"  The  young  gentlemen  were  very  gracious.  Please 
put  the  rod  back  into  the  cupboard,  Herr  professor." 

Any  further  elucidation  of  Aristotle  was  out  of 
the  question  for  that  day.  Was  not  the  uproarious 
outbreak  of  the  pupils  closely  connected  with  their 
study  of  logic  ?  Seriousness  is  often  a  very  hollow, 
dry,  and  leafless  trunk ;  else  folly  would  scarcely 
find  room  to  wind  her  wanton  green-leaved  tendrils 
around  it.  .  . 

When  the  duchess,  with  her  escort,  had  left  the 
schoolroom,  the  abbot  said  :  "  There  is  nothing  left 
now  to  show  you  but  the  library  of  the  monastery, 


64  EKKEHARD 

the  dispensar}-  for  souls  hungry  after  knowledge,  the 
armory  with  its  weapons  of  science." 

But  Frau  Hadwig  was  tired  ;  she  declined, 
"  I  must  keep  my  word,"  said  she,  "  and  put  the 
donation  to  your  schoolboys  in  writing.       Will  you 
be  pleased  to  have  the  bond  got  ready,  so  that  we 
may  provide  it  with  signature  and  seal  ?  " 

Herr  Cralo  conducted  his  guest  to  his  apartments. 
As  they  walked  along  the  corridor,  they  passed  a 
small  room,  the  door  of  w^iich  was  open.  Close  to 
the  bare  wall  stood  a  low  pillar,  from  which,  at  the 
height  of  a  man's  waist,  hung  a  chain.  Over  the 
portal,  in  faded  colors,  was  painted  a  figure  which 
held  a  rod  in  its  lean  hand. 

For  whom  the  Lord  loveth^  he  chasteneth^ 
And scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth 

(Heb.  xii.  6) 

was  written  under  it  in  capital  letters. 

Frau  Hadwig  cast  an  inquiring  look  at  the 
abbot. 

"  The  scourging-room  ! '"  ^^  replied  he. 

"  Is  none  of  the  brothers  just  now  liable  to 
punishment .''  "  asked,  she  ;  "  it  might  be  a  warning 
example.''  .  .  . 

Then  the  evil  Sindolt's  right  foot  twitched  as  if 
he  had  trodden  on  a  thorn.  He  turned  round,  pre- 
tending that  he  heard  a  voice  in  that  direction 
calling  to  him,  exclaimed,  ''  I  am  coming,"  and 
quickly  vanished  in  the  darkness  of  the  passage. 

He  knew  why. 

Notker   the   stutterer,    after    the   labor  of  years, 


IN  THE   MONASTERY  65 

had  at  last  completed  a  psalm-book,  decorated  with 
dainty  pen-and-ink  drawings.  This  book  the  en- 
vious Sindolt  had  destroyed  at  night,  cutting  it 
to  pieces  and  upsetting  a  jug  of  wine  over  it.  On 
account  of  this  he  had  been  sentenced  to  be  flogged 
three  times,  and  the  last  instalment  was  still  due. 
He  well  knew  the  room,  and  the  instruments  of 
penance  on  the  walls,  ranging  from  the  nine-tailed 
"  scorpion "  down  to   the  simple  "  wasp." 

The  abbot  urged  them  to  hurry  on.  His  rooms 
of  state  were  decorated  with  flowers.  Frau  Hadwig 
threw  herself  into  the  primitive  arm-chair,  to  rest 
from  the  fatigue  of  all  the  sight-seeing.  She  had 
received  many  new  impressions  within  a  few  hours. 
There  was  still  half  an  hour  left  before  supper. 

Whoever,  during  this  interval,  had  visited  all  the 
cloister-cells,  would  have  been  satisfied  that  not  a 
single  inhabitant  of  the  institution  was  unaffected 
by  the  influence  of  the  distinguished  visitor.  Even 
those  who  pass  their  lives  in  the  deepest  seclusion 
feel  that  homage  is  due  to  woman. 

The  hoary  Tutilo  had  remembered  with  a  pang, 
on  the  arrival  of  the  duchess,  that  the  left  sleeve 
of  his  cowl  was  adorned  with  a  hole.  Ordinarily 
the  sleeve  would  have  remained  unpatched  until 
the  next  great  festival ;  but  now  no  postponement 
availed.  Armed  with  needle  and  thread,  he  was 
sitting  on  his  couch,  busily  mending  the  reni  And 
because  he  had  his  hand  in,  he  also  seized  the  op- 
portunity to  put  new  soles  to  his  sandals,  fastening 
them  with  nails,  and  humming  a  tune  to  speed  the 
work. 

VOL.  I.  —  5 


^  EKKEHARD 

Radolt,  the  little  thinker,  was  walking  up  and 
down  in  his  cell  with  a  deep  frown  on  his  forehead, 
hoping  that  he  would  have  a  chance  to  praise  the 
virtues  of  the  high-born  guest  in  an  improvised 
speech.  In  order  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the  spon. 
taneous  effusion,  he  was  studying  it  beforehand. 
He  intended  to  take  the  fellowing  lines  of  Tacitus, 
"on  the  Germans,"  ^^  for  a  text:  — 

They  believe  also,  that  there  is  something  holy  about 
wo^nen,  and  that  they  have  the  gift  of  seeitig  i?ito  the 
future.  Therefore  they  7iever  disdain  the  advice 
give?t  by  them,  and  often  follow  their  warnings. 

This  was  about  all  that  he  knew  from  hearsay  of 
the  other  sex;  but  he  winked  his  squirrel-eyes,  and 
was  sure  that  he  would  find  some  way,  from  amid 
his  spiteful  criticism  on  his  brethren,  to  introduce  a 
panegyric  on  the  duchess.  Unfortunately  the  oppor- 
tunity to  bring  on  his  speech  failed  him,  for  he  did 
not  know  how  to  seize  it. 

In  another  cell  six  of  the  brothers  sat  under  the 
huge  ivory  comb,^'^  which  was  suspended  by  an  iron 
chain  from  the  ceiling.  This  was  a  very  useful 
institution  established  by  Abbot  Hartmuth.  Mur- 
muring the  prescribed  prayers,  they  assisted  one 
another  in  the  careful  arrangement  of  their  hair. 
Many  an  overgrown  tonsure  was  restored  to  a  shin- 
ing smoothness  at  that  time. 

In  the  kitchen  an  activity  that  left  nothing  to  be 
desired  was  developed  under  the  superintendence 
of  Ceroid  the  steward. 

Now  resounded  the  bell,  the  tone  of  which  was 
not  heard  even  by  the  most  pious  of  the  brethren 


IN   THE  MONASTERY  6/ 

without  a  pleasurable  sensation  ;  it  was  the  summons 
to  the  evening  meal.  Abbot  Cralo  led  the  duchess 
into  the  refectory.  The  cheerful  room  was  divided 
off  by  seven  pillars,  and  around  fourteen  tables 
stood  the  members  of  the  monastery,  priests  and 
deacons  assembled  like  champions  of  the  Church 
Militant.  They,  however,  paid  no  special  attention 
to  the  noble  guest. 

Ekkehard  the  door-keeper  had  the  duty  of  reader  ^^ 
before  the  meals  to  fulfil  that  week.  In  honor  of 
the  duchess  he  had  chosen  the  45th  psalm.  He 
arose  and  began  :  "  (9  Loi'd^  opeit  thou  my  lips,  that 
7ny  mouth  7Hay  show  forth  thy  praise;  "  and  all  re- 
peated these  words  in  a  low  murmur,  as  a  blessing 
on  his  reading. 

Then  he  hfted  his  voice  and  began  reciting  the 
psalm,  which  Scripture  itself  calls  "  a  lovely  song  "  : 

My  heart  is  inditing  of  a  good  matter ;  I  speak 
of  the  things  which  I  have  made  ujtto  the  King. 

My  tongue  is  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer. 

Thou  art  fairer  than  the.  childrefi  of  77ien ;  fill  of 
grace  are  thy  lips,  because  God  hath  blessed  thee  for 
ever. 

Gird  thee  with  thy  sword  upo?i  thy  thigh,  O  thou 
Most  Mighty,  accordittg  to  thy  worship  a7id  re7iown. 

Good  luck  have  thou  with  thi7ie  hoftor:  ride  on. 
Because  of  the  word  of  truth,  of  meek7iess  a7td 
righteousness ;  and  thy  right  ha7td  shall  teach  thee 
terrible  things. 

Thy  a7'7'ows  a7'e  vc7y  'tharp,  and  the  people  shall 
be  subdued  u7ito  thee,  even  in  the  7nidst  a77tong  the 
Ki7ig's  e7ie77iies. 


68  EKKEHARD 

Thy  seat,  O  God,  endure th  forever  j  the  sceptre  of 
thy  Kingdo?n  is  a  right  sceptre.  Thou  has  loved 
righteousness  and  hated  iniquity j  wherefore  God, 
even  thy  God,  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of 
gladness  above  thy  fellows. 

All  thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  aloes,  and  cas- 
sia ;  out  of  the  ivory  palaces  whereby  they  have  made 
thee  glad.  .  .  .  ^9 

The  duchess  seemed  to  understand  the  homage: 
as  if  she  herself  were  addressed  in  the  words  of  the 
psahn,  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  Ekkehard.  But  this  did 
not  escape  the  abbot's  notice,  and  he  made  a  sign 
to  interrupt  the  reading;  thus  the  psalm  remained 
unfinished,  and  all  sat  down  to  supper. 

Herr  Cralo  could  not,  however,  prevent  Frau  Had- 
wig  from  ordering  the  zealous  reader  to  take  his  place 
by  her  side.  According  to  rank  this  seat  on  her  left 
side  had  been  destined  for  the  old  dean  Gozbert ;  but 
he  for  the  last  few  minutes  had  felt  as  if  he  were 
doomed  to  sit  on  hot  coals  ;  for  he  had  once  indulged 
in  a  very  rough-spoken  dispute  with  Frau  Had  wig's 
late  husband,  at  the  time  when  the  latter  carried  off 
the  precious  chalice,  as  an  enforced  war-contribution; 
and  from  that  time  he  had  borne  a  grudge  against 
the  duchess  also.  No  sooner  did  he  remark  her 
intention,  than  he  gladly  moved  downwards,  and 
pushed  the  doorkeeper  into  the  dean's  seat.  Next 
to  Ekkehard  came  Spazzo  the  duchess's  chamber- 
lain, and  after  him  the  monk  Sindolt. 

The  meal  began.  The  steward,  well  knowing 
that  the  arrival  of  stranger  guests  sanctioned  an 
enlargement   of   the    accustomed   frugal    monastery 


IN   THE   MONASTERY  69 

fare,  had  not  restricted  himself  to  the  ordinary 
mush.'*^  Neither  was  the  late  Abbot  Hartmuth's 
strict  bill  of  fare  followedJ^ 

To  be  sure,  there  appeared  at  first  a  steaming 
dish  of  millet-porridge,  so  that  those  who  preferred 
strictly  to  adhere  to  the  prescribed  rule  might  sat- 
isfy their  hunger ;  but  after  that,  one  dehcacy  fol- 
lowed another  in  quick  succession.  Side  by  side 
with  the  haunch  of  venison  stood  the  bear's  ham  ; 
even  the  beaver  of  the  upper  pond  had  been  robbed 

of   its   life   in  honor    of  the    occasion.      Pheasants 

» 

partridges,  turtle-doves,  and  a  rich  store  of  smaller 
birds  came  in  turn ;  likewise  an  endless  choice  of  fish  ; 
so  that  finally  every  species  of  animal  such  as  wade, 
crawl,  fly,  or  swim,  was  represented  on  the  table. 

And  many  a  monk  fought  a  fierce  battle  within 
the  depths  of  his  heart  on  that  day;  even  Gozbert 
the  old  dean.  He  had  stilled  the  craving  of  hunger 
with  millet-porridge,  and  had  pushed  aside  (with 
a  tremendous  scowl)  the  roast  venison  and  bear's 
ham  as  if  it  were  a  temptation  of  the  Evil  One  ; 
but  when  a  beautifully  roasted  moor-hen  was  put 
down  before  him,  he  felt  the  odor  thereof  rise 
temptingly  into  his  nostrils,  and  with  the  savory 
smell  the  memories  of  his  youth  came  back  :  how 
he  himself  had  been  a  great  sportsman  forty  years 
before,  and  how  he  used  to  go  out  in  the  early 
morning  mist  to  shoot  the  mating  black-cock,  and 
then  he  recalled  the  story  of  the  gamekeeper's  bright- 
eyed  daughter;  and  twice  he  resisted  the  movement 
of  his  arm,  but  the  third  time  it  was  no  use,  —  half  of 
the  bird  lay  before  him,  and  was  hastily  despatched. 


70  EKKEHARD 

Spazzo  the  chamberlain  had  watched  with  an 
approving  nod  the  appearance  of  the  many  dishes. 
A  large  Rhine-trout,"'^  one  of  the  best  of  fish,  had 
quickly  disappeared  under  his  hands ;  and  as  he  was 
looking  for  something  to  drink,  Sindolt,  his  neigh- 
bor, seized  a  small  stone  jug,  filled  from  it  a  metal 
cup,. and  handing  it  to  him,  said:  "Your  health  in 
the  choicest  wine  of  the  monaster}-." 

Herr  Spazzo  intended  to  take  a  copious  draught, 
but  something  like  a  fit  of  ague  shook  him,  and 
putting  down  the  cup,  he  exclaimed,  "  Now  let  the 
Devil  be  a  monk  !  " 

The  evil  Sindolt  had  given  him  a  sour  cider, 
made  of  crab-apples,  and  mixed  with  blackberry- 
juice.  But  as  Herr  Spazzo  looked  ready  to  requite 
him  with  a  blow,  he  fetched  a  jug  of  the  dark  red 
"  ValteUiner,"  so  as  to  soften  his  ire.  The"Val- 
telUner"  is  a  capital  wine,  in  which  aforetime  the 
Emperor  Augustus  drowned  his  grief  over  the  de- 
feat of  Varus.'^  By  degrees  Herr  Spazzo's  good 
humor  returned,  so  that,  without  knowing  anything 
about  him,  he  even  drained  his  beaker  to  the  health 
of  the  Bishop  of  Chur,  to  whom  the  monastery  was 
indebted  for  this  wine,  and  Sindolt  did  not  fail  to 
pledge  his  health  like  a  boon  companion. 

'•  What  says  your  patron  to  such  drinking  ? " 
asked  the  chamberlain. 

'St.  Benedict  was  a  wise  man,"  replied  Sindolt; 
"  therefore  he  wrote  in  his  law  :  — 

"  Although  it  has  been  ordained  that  wine  is  not  on 
the  ivhole  a  suitable  drink  for  monks^  yet  as  not  a 
single  person  at  the  present  day  can  be  persuaded  of 


IN   THE   MONASTERY  7 1 

the  justice  of  this  decree^  ajid  since  we  must  take  into 
consideration  the  weakness  of  the  human  jniftd,  we 
allow  every  one  a  bottle  a  day.  N^o  one^  however^  is 
to  drink  to  satiety  j  for  wine  will  make  even  the 
wisest  swerve  froin  the  path  of  wisdom.^''  .  .  .  "^^ 

"  Good,"  said  Spazzo,  and  drained  his  beaker. 

"  But  on  the  other  hand,"  asked  Sindolt,  "  do  you 
know  what  is  prescribed  for  those  of  the  brother- 
hood in  whose  district  little  or  no  wine  grows? 
They  must  praise  the  Lord  and  not  complain  !  " 

"That's  good,  too,"  said  Spazzo;  and  again  he 
drained  his  beaker. 

Meanwhile  the  abbot  was  doing  his  beSt  to  enter- 
tain his  distinguished  cousin.  He  first  began  to 
eulogize  the  virtues  of  Herr  Burkhard;  but  Frau 
Hadwig's  responses  were  but  scanty  and  monosyl- 
labic. Then  the  abbot  made  the  discovery  that  every- 
thing has  its  time;  especially  a  widow's  love  for 
her  late  spouse.  So  he  changed  the  conversation, 
and  asked  her  how  the  cloister-schools  had  pleased 
her. 

"  I  feel  sorry  for  the  poor  boys  who  are  obliged 
to  learn  so  much  in  their  young  days,"  said  the 
duchess.  "  Do  you  not  impose  on  them  a  burden 
under  which  they  must  crouch  all  their  lives  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,  noble  cousin,"  replied  the  abbot, 
"  if,  both  as  friend  and  relation,  I  beg  you  not  to 
indulge  in  such  thoughtless  speech.  The  study  of 
science  is  no  burdensome  obligation  for  the  young ; 
it  is  like  strawberries  to  them  :  the  more  they  eat 
the  more  they  want." 

"  But  what  can  the  heathenish  art  of  logic  have 


'J2  EKKEHARD 

to  do  with  the  study  of  theology?"  asked  Frau 
Had  wig. 

"In  proper  hands  it  becomes  a  weapon  to  protect 
God's  church,"  said  the  abbot,  "  With  such  arts 
many  of  the  heretics  used  to  attack  believers,  but 
now  we  fight  them  with  their  own  arms ;  and  believe 
me,  good  Greek  or  Latin  is  a  much  finer  weapon 
than  our  native  language,  which  even  in  the  hands 
of  the  ablest  is  but  an  unwieldy  bludgeon." 

"Indeed,"  said  the  duchess,  "must  we  still  learn 
from  you  what  is  to  be  admired?  I  have  existed 
until  now  without  speaking  Latin,  Sir  Cousin." 

"It  would  not  harm  you  if  you  were  even  now  to 
learn  it,"  said  the  abbot ;  "  and  when  the  first 
euphonious  sounds  of  the  Latin  tongue  shall  have 
gladdened  your  ear,  you  will  admit  that  our  mother 
tongue  is  a  young  bear,  which  can  neither  stand 
nor  walk  before  it  has  been  licked  by  a  classical 
tongue.  .  .  ?^  Besides,  the  mouths  of  the  old 
Romans  teach  much  wisdom.  Just  ask  the  man  on 
your  left." 

"  Is  it  true  ?  "  asked  Frau  Hadwig,  turning  toward 
Ekkehard,  who  had  b,een  silently  listening  to  the 
foregoing  conversation. 

"It  would  be  true,  liege  Lady,"  said  he,  warmly, 
"if  you  needed  to  learn  wisdom." 

Frau  Hadwig  archly  held  up  her  forefinger. 
"  Have  you  yourself  got  recreation  from  those 
old  parchments  ? " 

"  Both  recreation  and  happiness,"  exclaimed 
Ekkehard,  with  beaming  eyes.  "  Beheve  me,  mis- 
tress, it  is  well  in  all  positions  of  life  to  come  to  the 


IN   THE  MONASTERY  73 

classics  for  advice.  Does  not  Cicero  teach  us  how 
to  walk  safely  in  the  intricate  paths  of  worldly 
wisdom  ?  Do  we  not  gather  confidence  and  courage 
from  Sallust  and  Livy,  the  conception  of  imperish- 
able beauty  from  the  songs  of  Vergil  ?  The  gospel 
is  the  guiding-star  of  our  faith  ;  but  the  old  classics 
have  left  a  light  behind  them,  like  the  glow  of  the 
evening  sun,  which,  even  after  it  has  set,  sends  re- 
freshment and  joy  into  the  hearts  of  men."  .  .  . 

Ekkehard  spoke  with  emotion.  Since  the  day 
on  which  the  old  Duke  Burkhard  had  asked  her 
hand  in  marriage,  the  duchess  had  not  seen  any 
one  who  showed  enthusiasm  for  anything.  She 
was  endowed  with  a  high  intellect,  which  readily 
turned  even  to  things  foreign.  She  had  learned 
Greek  very  rapidly,  in  the  days  of  her  youth,  on 
account  of  the  Byzantine  proposal.  Latin  inspired 
her  with  a  sort  of  awe,  because  it  was  strange  to 
her.  Unknown  things  easily  impress  us  ;  knowledge 
leads  us  to  judge  things  according  to  their  real 
worth,  which  generally  is  much  less  than  we  had  ex- 
pected. The  name  of  Vergil,  besides,  had  a  certain 
connection  with  the  idea  of  magic.  .  .  . 

In  that  hour  the  resolution  was  formed  in  Had- 
wig's  heart  to  learn  Latin.  She  had  plenty  of  time 
for  this,  and  after  having  cast  another  look  on  her 
neighbor  Ekkehard,  she  knew  who  was  to  be  her 
teacher.  .  .  . 

The  dainty  dessert,  consisting  of  peaches,  melons, 
and  dried  figs,  had  vanished  also,  and  the  lively 
conversation  at  the  different  tables  told  of  the  dili- 
gent circulation  of  the  wine-jug. 


74  EKKEHARD 

After  the  meal,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of 
the  order,  a  chapter  out  of  the  Scriptures,  or  else  the 
lives  of  the  holy  fathers,  had  to  be  read  for  the 
general  edification.  Ekkehard  had  begun,  on  the 
day  before,  a  description  of  the  life  of  St.  Benedict, 
written  by  Pope  Gregory.  The  brothers  drew  the 
tables  closer  together  ;  the  wine-jug  came  to  a  dead 
stop,  and  all  conversation  was  hushed.  Ekkehard 
continued  with  the  second  chapter:'"  — 

One  day  when  he  luas  alone,  the  Tempter  ap- 
proached him  J  for  a  small  black  bird,  commonly 
called  a  crow,  began  to  fly  arotcnd  his  head,  a?td 
kept  attacking  him,  approaching  so  that  the  holy 
man  ?night  have  captnred  it  with  his  hand  if  he 
had  so  desired. 

But  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  the  bird 
flew  away. 

N'o  sootier,  however,  had  the  bird  flown  away, 
than  the  fiercest  temptation  which  the  holy  man  had 
ever  yet  expej'ienced  assailed  hijn.  A  considerable 
time  before  he  had  beheld  a  certain  woman.  This 
woma?i  the  Evil  One  ?iow  caused  to  appear  before 
his  mental  eyes,  and  her  beauty  inflamed  the  heart 
of  God^s  servant  to  such  a  degree  that  a  devouring 
love  began  to  glow  in  his  heart,  and  he  almost  re- 
solved to  leave  his  hermit-life,  so  strong  was  the 
longing  and  desire  within  him. 

But  suddenly  the  Grace  of  God  shed  down  upon 
hijjt  such  a  light  that  he  returned  to  his  better  self. 
And  he  beheld  on  one  side  a  hedge  of  bra??tbles 
and  nettles,  and  he  undressed  and  threw  himself 
naked  into  the  thorns  and  stinging  nettles,  so  that 


IN  THE   MONASTERY  75 

when  he  wefit  from  that  place  his  whole  body  was 
lacerated. 

And  thus  by  meaiis  of  the  woimds  of  the  skin 
he  healed  the  wound  of  the  spirit^  a7id  Iiaving  con- 
quered sin.,  he  was  saved.  .  .  . 

Frau  Hadwig  was  not  greatly  edified  by  this 
reading.  So  she  let  her  eyes  wander  about  in  the 
hall  in  search  of  something  to  divert  her  thoughts. 
The  chamberlaiA  Spazzo,  —  had  the  choice  of  the 
chapter  seemed  to  him  also  infelicitous,  or  had  the 
Valtelliner  got  into  his  head  ?  —  with  a  sudden  im- 
pulse closed  the  book  in  the  reader's  hands  so 
vehemently  that  the  wooden  covers  clapped  to- 
gether, and  held  up  his  beaker  to  him,  saying, 
"to   the  health  of   St.  Benedict." 

Ekkehard  turned  a  reproachful  look  on  him,  but 
the  younger  members  of  the  brotherhood  regarded 
the  toast  as  appropriate,  and  were  already  echoing 
it  noisily.  Here  and  there  they  were  striking  up  a 
hymn  in  praise  of  the  holy  man  ;  this  time  to  the 
tune  of  a  merry  drinking-song,  and  loud  joyous 
voices   rang  through   the   hall. 

While  Abbot  Cralo  was  looking  about  with  a 
somewhat  dubious  expression,  and  Herr  Spazzo 
was  still  busily  engaged,  with  the  younger  clergy, 
drinking  to  the  health  of  their  patron  saint,  P^rau 
Hadwig  leaned  toward  Ekkehard  and  asked  him, 
in  a  half  whisper :  — 

"Would  you  teach  me  Latin,  young  admirer  of 
antiquity,  if  I  felt  inclined  to  learn  it?  "  '' 

Then  Ekkehard  heard  in  his  heart  something  like 
an  echo  of  what  he  had  read :  "  Throw  thyself  into  the 


'j6  EKKEHARD 

thorns  and  nettles,  and  say  Xo  !  "  —  but  he  replied, 
"  Command,  and  I  obey." 

The  duchess  once  more  gazed  on  the  young 
monk,  with  a  pecuHar,  fleeting  glance,  then  turned  to 
the  abbot,  and  talked  of  indifferent  things. 

The  cloister  brothers  displayed  as  yet  no  incli- 
nation to  forego  this  day's  unusual  opportunity.  In 
the  abbot's  eyes  shone  a  soft  and  lenient  light,  and 
the  cellarer  also  did  not  attempt  to  push  the  bolt 
when  the  brothers  descended  with  their  empty  wine- 
jugs  into  the  vaults  below. 

At  the  fourth  table  the  old  Tutilo  began  to  get 
jolly,  and  was  telling  the  inevitable  story  of  his  ad- 
venture with  the  two  robbersJ^  Louder  and  louder 
his  powerful  voice  rang  through  the  hall :  — 

"  One  of  them  turned  to  fly,  —  I  after  him  with 
my  oaken  stick ;  he  throws  away  spear  and  shield 
to  the  ground,  —  I  seize  him  by  the  throat,  force 
the  spear  into  his  hand  :  '  Thou  knave  of  a  robber, 
why  art  thou  in  the  world  1  Thou  shalt  fight  with 
me  ! ' "  .  .  . 

But  they  had  been  obliged  to  hear  it  too  often 
already :  how  he  had  ^  split  open  the  skull  of  his 
enforced  antagonist ;  so  they  pulled  at  him  and 
urged  him  to  sing  some  fine  song,  and  when  at  last 
he  gave  an  assenting  nod,  some  of  them  rushed  out, 
presently  to  return  with  their  instruments.  One  of 
them  brought  a  lute,  another  a  little  violin  with  only 
one  string,  a  third  a  sort  of  dulcimer  with  metal 
pegs  which  were  manipulated  with  a  tuning-key, 
and  a  fourth  a  small  ten-stringed  harp.  This  last 
curious-looking    instrument   was    called     a   psalter, 


IN   THE  MONASTERY  yy 

and  its  three-cornered  shape  was  held  to  be  a 
symbol  of  the  Trinity."*^ 

Then  they  gave  him  his  baton  of  ebony.  The 
hoary  artist  rose  smilingly  from  his  seat,  and  gave 
them  the  signal  to  play  a  piece  of  music,  which  he 
himself  had  composed  in  his  younger  days.  Gladly 
the  others  listened ;  ^°  only  Ceroid  the  steward 
became  rather  melancholy  on  hearing  the  melodious 
sounds  ;  he  counted  the  dishes  as  they  were  carried 
away  empty,  and  the  stone  jugs,  and  like  a  text  to 
the  melody  the  words  vibrated  through  his  mind, 
"  How  much  this  one  day  has  swallowed  up  in 
goods  and  money  ? "  ^^  Softly  he  beat  time  with 
his  sandal-clad  foot,  until  the  last  note  had  died 
away. 

At  the  foot  of  the  table  sat  a  silent  guest,  with 
a  pale  olive  complexion  and  black  curly  hair. 
He  came  from  Italy,  and  had  accompanied  the 
mules,  loaded  with  chestnuts  and  oil,  from  the 
monastery  estates  across  the  Alps  in  Lombardy. 
In  melancholy  silence,  he  let  the  floods  of  song 
pass  over  him. 

"  Well,  Master  Giovanni,"  said  Folkard  the  painter, 
"  has  the  fine  Italian  ear  been  satisfied  ?  The  Em- 
peror Julianus  once  compared  the  singing  of  our 
forefathers  to  the  screeching  of  v/ild  birds ;  but 
since  that  time  we  have  made  progress.  Did  it  not 
sound  lovelier  in  your  ears  than  the  singing  of 
swans  ?  "  ^2 

"  Lovelier  —  than  the  singing  of  swans  "  —  re- 
peated the  stranger  in  dreamy  accents.  Then  he 
arose,    and    quietly  stole    away.      No   one   in   the 


78  EKKEHARD 

monastery  ever  read  what  he  wrote  down  in  his 
journal  that  evening. 

"  These  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps," 
he  wrote,  "when  they  let  the  thunder  of  their  voices 
rise  rumbling  up  to  heaven,  never  can  attain  to  the 
sweetness  of  an  artistic  modulation.  Truly  barbar- 
ous is  the  roughness  of  their  wine-guzzling  throats ; 
and  whenever  they  attempt,  by  sinking  and  then 
raising  their  voices,  to  attain  a  melodious  softness, 
Nature  shudders,  for  it  resembles  the  creaking  of 
cart-wheels  over  frozen  ground."  .  .  .  ^^ 

Herr  Spazzo  bethought  him  to  end  praiseworth- 
ily  what  he  had  begun  so  praiseworthily :  he  stole 
quietly  across  the  courtyard  to  the  building  where 
Praxedis  and  her  companions  were,  and  said,  "  You 
are  to  come  to  the  duchess,  and  that  at  once." 

At  first  the  maidens  laughed  at  his  cowl ;  then 
they  followed  him  into  the  hall,  as  there  was  no 
one  to  keep  them  out ;  and  as  soon  as  the  maids 
became  visible  at  the  entrance  of  the  refectory-,  a 
buzzing  and  murmuring  and  a  turning  of  heads 
began,  as  if  a  dancing  and  jumping  were  now  to 
take  place  such  as  these  walls  had  never  before 
experienced. 

Herr  Cralo  the  abbot,  however,  looked  at  the 
duchess,  and  exclaimed  :  "  My  Lady  Cousin  !  "  and 
he  said  it  with  such  a  touching,  woe-begone  expres- 
sion that  she  started  up  from  her  rever)-.  And 
suddenly  she  looked  with  different  eyes  than  before 
on  her  chamberlain  and  herself,  in  their  monk's 
habits,  and  on  the  rows  of  carousing  men.  The 
faces  of  the  more  distant  ones  were  hidden  bv  their 


I 


IN  THE   MONASTERY  /g 

projecting  hoods,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  wine 
were  pouring  down  into  empty  cowls ;  and  the  bois- 
terous music  rang  in  her  ears  as  if  it  were  a  part 
of  a  mad  masquerade,  that  had  already  lasted  too 
long.  .   .  . 

So  she  said :  "  It  is  time  to  go  to  bed,"  and 
went  with  her  suite  over  to  the  school-house,  where 
she  was  to  rest  that  night. 

"  Do  you  know  what  would  have  been  the  reward 
of  dancing  ?"  asked  Sindolt  of  one  of  his  fellow 
monks,  who  seemed  extremely  sorry  at  this  turn 
of  affairs.  The  monk  stared  at  him.  Then  Sin- 
dolt made  a  gesture  which  unmistakably  meant, 
"  Scourging." 


80  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER   V, 

ekkehard's  departure. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  duchess  and  her 
attendants  mounted  their  steeds  to  ride  homewards ; 
and  when  she  forbade  all  parting  ceremonies,  the 
abbot  did  not  urge  her.  Therefore  perfect  quiet 
reigned  in  the  monaster}-,  even  while  the  horses  were 
neighing  impatiently.  Only  Herr  Cralo  came  over, 
knowing  well  what  good  manners  demanded. 

Two  of  the  brothers  accompanied  him.  One  of 
them  carried  a  handsome  crystal  cup  with  a  finely 
wrought  silver  foot  and  cover  in  which  was  set  many  a 
pretty  bit  of  onyx  and  emerald.  The  other  carried  a 
small  jug  of  wine.  The  abbot,  pouring  out  some  into 
the  cup,  wished  good  speed  to  his  noble  cousin,  and 
begged  her  to  drink  the  parting  draught  with  him, 
and  to  keep  the  cup  as  i.  friendly  remembrance.^"* 

In  case  the  gift  should  not  be  deemed  sufficient, 
he  had  in  the  background  still  another  curious  article, 
which,  though  made  of  silver,  had  a  very  insignifi- 
cant appearance,  as  it  bore  close  resemblance  to  an 
ordinary  loaf  of  bread.  Inside,  this  was  filled  to 
the  brim  with  gold-pieces.^^  The  abbot  did  not  in- 
tend to  mention  this  prematurely,  but  kept  it  care- 
fully hidden  under  his  cowl. 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  8 1 

Frau  Hadwig  took  the  proffered  cup,  pretended 
to  sip  a  little,  and  then  handed  it  back,  saying :  — 

"  Pardon  me,  dear  cousin ;  what  shall  a  woman  do 
with  that  drinking-vessel  !  I  claim  another  parting 
gift.  Did  you  not  speak  of  the  wells  of  wisdom 
yesterday  ?     Give  me  a  Vergil  out  of  your  library !  " 

"Always  jesting,"  said  Herr  Cralo,  who  had  ex- 
pected a  more  momentous  demand.  "  What  good 
can  Vergil  do  you  ?    You  do  not  know  the  language." 

"  Of  course  you  must  give  me  the  teacher  with  it," 
seriously  replied  the  duchess. 

But  the  abbot  shook  his  head  dubiously.  "  Since 
when  are  the  disciples  of  St.  G alius  given  away  as 
parting  gifts  ?  " 

But  tli^  duchess  said:  "Now,  really,  you  under- 
stand me.  The  fair-haired  doorkeeper  shall  be  my 
teacher ;  and  three  days  hence,  at  the  latest,  he  and 
the  volume  of  Vergil  shall  make  their  appearance  at 
my  castle  !  Take  notice  !  the  settlement  of  the  dis- 
puted land  in  the  Rhine  valley,  and  the  confirmation 
of  the  monastery's  privileges  in  Suabia,  are  m  my 
hands;  and  I  am  not  disinclined  to  erect  a  small 
cloister  for  >  the  disciples  of  St.  Gallus  on  the  rocks 
of  the  Hohentwiel.  .  .  .  Farewell,  cousin ! " 

Then  Herr  Cralo,  with  a  melancholy  look,  signed 
to  the  serving-monk  to  carry  the  chalice  back  to  the 
the  treasury.  Frau  Hadwig  gracefully  extended  her 
right  hand  to  him,  the  steeds  pawed  the  ground, 
Herr  Spazzo  waved  his  hat,  and  the  cavalcade, 
at  an  easy  gallop,  rode  away  from  the  monastery, 
homewards. 

From  the    window    of    the    watch-tower    an   im- 

VOL.  I.  — 6 


82  EKKEHARD 

mense  nosegay  was  thrown  after  the  parting  guests  ; 
in  the  midst  of  it  there  shone  at  least  half  a  dozen 
sun-flowers,  not  to  mention  innumerable  asters  ;  but 
nobody  picked  it  up,  and  the  horses'  hoofs  passed 
over  it.  .  .  . 

In  the  dry  moat  outside  the  gate  the  day-scholars 
of  the  monastery  had  hidden  themselves.  "  Long 
life  to  the  duchess  of  Suabia !  Hail!  hail!  —  and 
she  must  not  forget  to  send  us  the  felchen ! "  was 
loudly  shouted  after  her  as  a  parting  salutation. 

"  He  who,  as  reward  for  his  bad  behavior,  obtains 
three  holidays  and  the  best  fish  of  the  lake,  may  well 
shout,"  said  Herr  Spazzo. 

Slowly  the  abbot  went  back  to  the  monaster}^,  and, 
sending  for  Ekkehard  the  doorkeeper,  said*o  him  : 

"  A  summons  has  come  for  you.  You  are  to  take 
a  Vergil  to  the  Duchess  Hadwig,  and  become  her 
teacher.  'The  old  song  of  Maro  may  soften  the 
Scythian  customs  by  their  lovely  melody,'  is  written 
in  Sidonius.     I  know  that  it  is  not  your  wish  ..." 

Ekkehard  cast  down  his  eyes,  with  a  heightened 
color. 

"  But  we  must  not  offend  the  mighty  ones  of  this 
earth.  To-morrow  you  will  start.  'T  is  with  regret 
that  I  let  you  go,  for  you  are  one  of  the  best  and 
most  dutiful  here.  St.  Gallus  will  not  forget  the 
service  which  you  are  rendering  his  foundation. 
Don't  omit  to  cut  out  of  the  Vergil  the  title-page,  on 
which  is  written  the  curse  on  him  who  takes  the  book 
away  from  the  monastery."  ^^  .  .  . 

What  our  hearts  desire  we  gladly  suffer  to  be  put 
on  us  as  a  duty. 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  83 

"  The  vow  of  obedience,"  said  Ekkehard,  "  obliges 
me  to  do  the  will  of  my  superior,  without  fear  or 
delay,  without  regret  or  murmur." 

He  bent  his  knee  before  the  abbot,  and  then  went 
to  his  cell.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  been 
dreaming.  Since  the  day  before,  almost  too  much 
had  happened  to  him.  It  is  often  so  with  men.  Dur- 
ing a  long  time  hfe  flows  monotonously;  but  when 
che  turning-point  of  Fate  comes,  one  change  follows 
another.     He  prepared  himself  for  the  journey. 

What  thou  hast  begiin^  leave  unfinished ;  with- 
draw thy  hand  from  the  work  it  was  e7nployed  on^ 
and  go  away  in  the  path  of  obedience.  He  scarcely 
needed  to  remind  himself  of  this  portion  of  the 
rules. 

In  his  cell  lay  the  parchment-leaves  of  a  psalm- 
book,^''  which  had  been  written  and  illustrated  by 
Folkard's  masterly  hand.  Ekkehard  had  been  com- 
missioned to  finish  up  all  the  initials  with  the  pre- 
cious gold-color  which  the  abbot  had  lately  bought 
from  a  Venetian  merchant ;  and  by  adding  delicate 
golden  lines  to  the  crowns,  sceptres,  and  swords,  as 
well  as  to  the  borders  of  the  mantles,  to  give  the  last 
touch  to  the  figures. 

He  took  up  parchment  and  colors,  and  brought 
them  over  to  his  companion,  that  he  might  finish  the 
work  himself.  Folkard  was  engaged  in  composing 
a  new  picture,  —  David  playing  the  lute  and  dancing 
before  the  ark  of  the  Covenant.  He  did  not  look 
up,  and  FLkkehard  silently  left  the  studio  again. 

After  this  he  went  to  the  library  to  get  the  Vergil; 
and,  as  he  stood  all  alone  in  the  high-arched  hall, 


84  EKKEHARD 

among  the  silent  parchments,  a  feeling  of  mel- 
ancholy came  over  him.  Even  lifeless  things,  when 
we  are  about  to  take  leave  of  them,  seem  to  possess 
a  soul,  and  to  share  some  of  the  feelings  which  are 
stirring  our  own  hearts. 

The  books  were  his  best  friends.  He  knew  them 
all,  and  knew  who  had  copied  them.  Some  of  the 
manuscripts  reminded  him  of  companions  whom 
death  had  already  gathered. 

"  What  will  the  new  life,  which  begins  to-mor- 
row, bring  to  me  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  A  tear  stood 
in  his  eye.  At  that  moment  his  gaze  fell  on  the 
small  metal-bound  glossary,  in  which  St.  Gallus, 
not  knowing  the  language  spoken  by  the  people 
around  the  Bodensee,  had  caused  the  parson  at 
Arbon  to  write  down  a  translation  into  German  of 
the  most  necessary  words. ^^  Then  Ekkehard  re- 
called with  how  little  help  and  preparation  the 
founder  of  the  monastery  had  once  set  out,  a 
stranger,  into  heathen  lands  ;  and  how  his  God  and 
his  courageous  heart  had  kept  him  safe  in  all 
dangers  and  sorrows. 

His  spirits  rose  ;  he  kissed  the  Httle  book,  took 
the  Vergil  from  the  bobk-case.  and  turned  to  go. 

Whoever  carries  away  this  book  shall  receive 
a  thoiisaiid  lashes  of  the  scoiwge ;  ?nay  palsy  aiid 
leprosy  attack  him  1  This  was  written  on  the  title- 
page.     Ekkehard  cut  it  out. 

Once  more  he  looked  around,  as  if  the  books  on 
the  shelves  and  in  the  cases  were  bidding  him  fare- 
well. At  that  moment  a  rustling  was  heard  on  the 
wall,  and  there  fell  from  the  nail  that   held  it   the 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  85 

large  plan  ^^  which  the  architect  Gerung  had  once 
drawn  on  a  piece  of  leather  three  feet  long  for 
Abbot  Hartmuth  when  he  had  wanted  a  new  build- 
ing to  be  added  to  the  monastery  A  great  cloud 
of  dust  arose. 

Ekkehard  paid  no  heed  to  this. 

As  he  walked  along  the  passage  of  the  upper 
story,  he  passed  an  open  chamber.  This  was 
the  old  men's  corner.  The  blind  Thieto,  ^*^  who 
had  once  been  abbot,  until  his  waning  eye-sight 
had  forced  him  to  resign,  was  sitUng  there.  A 
window  was  open  so  that  the  old  man  could  enjoy 
the  warm  sunny  air.  With  him  Ekkehard  had 
spent  many  an  hour  in  friendly  converse.  The 
blitid  man  recognized  his  step,  and  called  him  in. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "   he  asked. 

"  Downstairs,  —  and  to-morrow  I  am  going  far 
away.  Give  me  your  hand ;  I  am  going  to  the 
Hohentwiel." 

"  Bad,  —  very  bad,"  muttered  the  old  man. 

"  Why,  Father  Thieto  ?  " 

"  The  service  of  women  is  an  evil  thing  for  him 
who  wishes  to  remain  good.  Court  service  is  worse 
still.     What,  then,  are  both  together .?  " 

"  It  is  my  fate,"  said  Ekkehard. 

"  St.  Gallus  keep  you  and  bless  you !  I  will  pray 
for  you.     Give  me  my  stick." 

Ekkehard  offered  his  arm,  but  he  refused  it.  He 
rose,  and  went  to  a  niche  in  the  wall,  from  which  he 
took  a  small  vial  and  gave  it  to  Ekkehard. 

"It's  water  from  the  river  Jordan,  which  I  my- 
self got.     When    the   dust  covers   your   face,   and 


86  EKKEHARD 

your  eyes  grow  dim,  then  bathe  them  with  it.  It 
does  not  help  mine  any  more.     Farewell." 

On  the  evening  of  that  same  day  Ekkehard  was 
climbing  the  little  hill  which  rose  behind  the 
monastery.  This  had  long  been  his  favorite  walk. 
The  dark  fir-trees  were  reflected  in  the  fish-ponds 
which  had  been  artificially  made  there  to  supply 
fish  for  the  fast-days.  A  gentle  breeze  ruffled  the 
surface  of  the  water  ;  the  fish  were  swimming  briskly 
about.  With  a  smile  he  stood  by  them,  thinking, 
"  When  shall  I  taste  one  of  you  again  ?  " 

In  the  fir-wood  on  the  top  of  the  Freudenberg 
there  was  solemn  silence.  There  he  stopped.  An 
extensive  view  spread  before  him. 

At  his  feet  lay  the  monastery,  with  all  its  build- 
ings and  walls.  Here  in  the  courtyard  was  the 
well-known  fountain;  there  the  garden  was  full  of 
autumnal  flowers :  and  in  one  long  row  were  the 
windows  of  the  cloister  cells.  He  knew  each  one, 
and  saw  also  his  own  :  — 

"  May  God  protect  thee,  peaceful  abode  !  " 

The  spot  where  the  days  of  strenuous  youth  have 
been  spent  acts  like  a  loadstone  on  the  heart,  which 
requires  so  little  to  feel  attracted.  Only  he  is  poor 
to  whom  the  mighty  bustling  life  of  this  world  has 
not  granted  time  to  find  a  quiet  resting-place  —  a 
real  home — for  body  and  mind. 

Ekkehard  raised  his  eyes.  Far  away  in  the  dis- 
tance, like  the  fair  prospect  of  the  future,  gleamed 
the     Bodensee's     placid     mirror.  The     line     of 

the  opposite  shore,  and  the  peaks  of  the  heights 
behind,   were   hidden   in   a  vague  haze;    only  here 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  8/ 

and  there  a  bright  light,  and  its  reflection  in  the 
water,  indicated  the  dwelling-places  of  human 
beings. 

"  But  what  means  th^  darkness  behind  me  ? " 
He  turned  round  and  beheld  the  Santis  rising  with 
its  horns  and  pinnacles  behind  the  fir-clad  hills.  On 
the  weatherbeaten  crags  flickered  the  warm  sun- 
beams, as  they  contended  with  the  clouds  and 
lighted  up  the  masses  of  old  snow,  which,  in  its 
caves  and  crevices,  lay  awaiting  the  new  winter.  .  . 
Over  the  Kamor  hung  a  heavy  cloud;  it  grew 
higher  and  bigger;  soon  the  sun  was  obscured;  a 
wan  gray  hue  veiled  the  mountain-peaks;  it  began 
to  lighten.   .   . 

"  Is  that  meant  as  a  warning  for  me  ?  "  said  Ekke- 
hard.  "  I  do  not  understand  it.  My  way  is  not 
toward  the  Santis." 

Full  of  thoughts,  he  descended  to  the  valley 
again. 

In  the  night  he  prayed  at  the  grave  of  St.  Gallus. 
Early  in  the  morning  he  took  his  departure.  The 
Vergil  and  Thieto's  vial  were  packed  up  in  his  knap- 
sack, which  also  held  the  few  other  things  that  he 
possessed. 

He  who  has  not  even  his  own  person,  his  wishes 
and  his  desires  at  his  free  disposal,  can  still  less 
have  any  worldly  possessions  and  goods. 

The  abbot  gave  him  two  gold-pieces  and  some 
silver  coins,  as  a  travelling-penny. 

In  one  of  the  monastery  grain  ships  he  crossed 
the  lake,  a  favorable  wind  filling  the  sail,  and  cour- 
age and  the  joy  of  travel  swelling  his  bosom. 


SS  EKKEHAKD 

At  dinner-time  the  castle  of  Constance  and  the 
cathedral  and  its  towers  became  more  and  more 
distinct.  With  a  joyous  bound,  Ekkehard  sprang 
on  shore. 

In  Constance  he  might  have  stopped  and  claimed 
the  hospitality  of  the  bishop.  He  did  not  do  so. 
The  place  was  disagreeable  to  him  ;  he  hated  it 
from  the  bottom  of  his  heart, — not  for  its  position 
or  any  lack  of  beauty  (in  that  respect  it  is  the  open 
rival  of  any  town  on  the  lake),  but  on  account  of  the 
memory  of  a  man  whom  he  detested. 

This  was  Bishop  Salomo,  who  had  been  lately 
buried  with  great  pomp  in  the  cathedral.  Ekkehard 
was  a  simple-minded,  straightforward,  pious  man. 
To  become  proud  and  overbearing  in  the  service 
of  the  church  seemed  to  him  very  wrong;  to  combine 
this  with  worldly  tricks  and  knavery  highly  blamable ; 
and  to  remain  famous,  in  spite  of  wickedness  of 
heart,  most  extraordinar}-.  Such,  however,  had  been 
the  Bishop  Salomo's  career. 

Ekkehard  well  remembered  hearing  from  older 
companions  how  the  young  nobleman  had  forced  his 
way  into  the  monastery  and  acted  as  spy ;  how  he 
had  managed  to  represent  himself  as  indispensable 
to  the  emperor,  until  the  mitre  of  an  abbot  of  St. 
Gall,  together  with  that  of  a  bishop  of  Constance,  was 
placed  on  his  brow. 

And  the  children  in  the  streets  sang  of  the  fate 
which  had  befallen  the  messengers  of  the  exchequer. 
The  intriguing  prelate  had  provoked  and  insulted  them 
till  they  had  recourse  to  feudal  law,  and  made  him 
prisoner;  but  though  Herr  Erchanger's  wife  Berchta 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  89 

tended  and  nursed  him  like  her  lord  during  his 
captivity,  and  begged  him  for  the  kiss  of  peace,  and 
ate  out  of  the  same  plate  with  him,  his  spirit  of 
vengeance  was  not  appeased  until  the  emperor's  law 
court  at  Adingen  laid  the  heads  of  his  fierce  enemies 
at  his  feet 

And  the  daughter  whom  he  had  begotten  in  the 
gay  days  of  his  student-life  was  even  then  abbess  in 
the  cathedral  at  Zurich.^^ 

All  this  was  known  to  Ekkehard :  he  did  not  like 
to  pray  in  the  church  where  that  man  was  buried. 

It  may  be  unjust  to  transfer  the  hatred  which  is 
felt  for  men  to  the  place  where  they  have  lived  and 
died,  but  it  is  comprehensible. 

He  shook  the  dust  of  Constance  from  his  feet, 
and  strode  out  of  the  city-gate,  keeping  on  the  left 
of  the  stripling  Rhine  where  it  had  but  just  issued 
from  the  lake. 

He  cut  for  himself  a  strong  walking-stick  from 
a  hazel-bush.  "  As  the  rod  of  Aaron  which  budded 
in  the  temple  of  God  distinguished  his  race  from 
that  of  the  degenerate  Jews,  so  may  this  staff,  blessed 
by  the  abundance  of  God's  grace,  be  my  protection 
against  the  evil  ones  on  my  path,"  he  said,  in  the 
words  of  an  old  blessing  on  walking-sticks.^^ 

His  heart  beat  with  pleasure  as  he  walked  on  his 
solitary  way. 

How  full  of  hope  and  joy  is  he  who  in  the  days 
of  his  youth  goes  out  on  unknown  paths  to  meet  an 
unknown  future,  with  the  wide  world  before  him, 
a  blue  sky  over-head,  and  the  heart  fresh  and  trust- 
ing, as  if  his  pilgrim-staff,  wherever  he  plants  it  in 


90  EKKEHARD 

the  ground,  must  produce  leaves  and  blossoms,  and 
bring  forth  good  fortune  like  golden  apples  on  its 
boughs.  Walk  briskly  on  !  The  day  will  come  when 
thou  also  wilt  drag  thyself  wearily  along  on  the  dusty 
highway,  w^hen  thy  staff  will  be  but  a  dry  withered 
stick,  when  thy  face  will  be  pale  and  worn,  and  the 
children  will  be  pointing  their  fingers  at  thee,  laughing 
and  asking,  "  Where  are  the  golden  apples  ?  "  .  .  . 

Ekkehard  was  truly  light-hearted  and  content.  To 
sing  merry  songs  was  not  becoming  for  a  man  of  his 
calling;  it  was  the  song  of  David  which  he  now 
began : — 

The  Lord  is  my  s1iephe7'd ;  therefore  can  I  lack 
nothing.  He  shall  feed  me  in  a  green  pasture  : 
and  lead  7ne  forth  beside  the  waters  of  comfort; 
and  this  may  have  been  registered  in  heaven  in  the 
same  book  in  which  the  guardian-angels  of  youth 
put  down  the  merry  songs  of  wandering  scholars 
and  'prentice  lads. 

His  path  took  him  through  meadows  and  past 
marshes  filled  with  tall  reeds.  A  long  and  narrow 
island  called  Reichenau  —  Rich  Meadow  —  stretched 
out  in  the  lake.  The  towers  and  walls  of  the  mon- 
astery were  mirrored'in  the  placid  waters;  vineyards, 
meadows,  and  orchards  testified  to  the  industry  of 
the  inhabitants. 

Two  hundred  years  previously  the  "  Meadow  "  was 
only  a  barren  waste,  a  damp  morass,  the  dwelHng- 
place  of  hideous  crawling  things  and  poisonous 
snakes.  But  the  Austrian  Governor  Sintlaz  invited 
over  the  itinerant  Bishop  Pirminius,  who  pronounced 
a  solemn  blessins  on  the  island.     Then  the  snakes 


I 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  91 

and  scorpions  went  away  in  great  masses,  —  myria- 
pods  as  skirmishers  in  the  van,  together  with  earwigs 
and  scorpions  and  all  other  crawling  things  in  care- 
fully arranged  columns,  while  toads  and  salamanders 
brought  up  the  rear.  Nothing  could  resist  the 
curse  which  the  bishop  had  pronounced  over  them. 
The  swarm  directed  its  course  down  to  the  shore,  to 
the  spot  where  afterwards  the  castle  Schopfeln  was 
built,  and  thence  they  fell  into  the  green  waters  of 
the  lake  ;  and  the  fish  had  a  good  meal  on  that 
day.   .   .  . 

From  that  time  the  monastery  founded  by  St. 
Pirmin  had  flourished,  —  a  greenhouse  of  monastic 
discipline,  of  good  repute  in  German  lands. 

Reichenau,    island   of  verdure,  how  far   above  all  art   thoit 

favored  ! 
Rich    in    treasures   of  knowledge   and   rich    in   thy   virtuous 

people, 
Rich  in  the  fruits  of  thy  orchards,  the  swelling  grapes  of  thy 

vineyards, 
Ever  thy  lily  abloom,  in  the  mirror-like  lake  is  reflected : 
Far.  thy  fame  is  spread  to  the  misty  land  of  tlie  Britons  ! 

Thus,  as  early  as  in  the  days  of  Ludwig  the  Ger- 
man, sang  the  learned  monk  Ermenrich  ^^  when  in 
his  abbey  of  Ellwangen  a  longing  for  the  glittering 
waters  of  the  Bodensee  came  over  him. 

Ekkehard  resolved  to  pay  a  visit  to  this  rival  of 
his  monastery.  On  the  white  sandy  shore  of  Erma- 
tingen  a  fisherman  was  standing  in  his  boat,  baling 
out  water.  Ekkehard  pointed  with  his  staff  toward 
the  island  and  said,  "  Row  me  over  there,  my  good 
friend." 


92  EKKEHARD 

The  monastic  dress  in  those  days  gave  weight  to 
all  demands. 

But  the  fisherman  peevishly  shook  his  head  and 
said :  "  I  will  not  take  any  more  of  you  over,  since 
you  fined  me  a  shilling,  at  the  last  session-day." 

"  Why  did  they  fine  you  ?  " 

"  On  account  of  the  Kreuzmann  !  " 

"  And  who  is  the  Kreuzmann  ?  " 

"The  Allmann." 

"  He  likewise  is  unknown  to  me,'"  said  Ekkehard. 
"  What  does  he  look  like  ?  " 

"  He  is  made  of  metal,"  grumbled  the  fisher- 
man, "two  spans  high,  and  holds  three  water-Hlies 
in  his  hand.  He  was  standing  in  the  old  willow- 
tree  at  Allmannsdorf,  and  it  was  a  good  thing  that 
he  stood  there  ;  but  at  the  last  session  they  cut  him 
out  of  the  tree,  and  carried  him  into  their  mon- 
astery. So  now  he  stands  on  that  ItaHan  bishop's 
grave  at  Niederzell.  What  good  does  he  do  there  ? 
—  Does  he  help  dead  saints  to  catch  fish  ?  "  ®-* 

Then  Ekkehard  perceived  that  the  fisherman's 
Christian  faith  was  as  yet  not  very  strong,  and 
now  he  knew  why  the  bronze  idol  had  cost  him  a 
shilling's  fine.  He  had  sacrificed  a  kid  to  it  at  night- 
time, in  order  that  his  draught  of  fishes  might  be 
well  blessed  with  felchen,  trout,  and  perch  ;  and  the 
authorities  had  punished  such  heathenish  backslid- 
ing according  to  the  imperial  laws. 

"  Be  sensible,  old  friend,"  said  Ekkehard,  "  and 
forget  the  Allmann.  I  will  give  you  a  good  part  of 
your  shilling,  if  you  will  set  me  across." 

"  What  I  say,"    replied  the  old  man,   "  shall  not 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  93 

be  turned  round  like  a  ring  on  a  finger.  I  will  take 
none  of  you  over.     My  boy  may  do  it  if  he  likes." 

He  whistled  through  his  fingers,  and  this  brought 
his  boy,  a  tall  boatman,  who  rowed  him  across. 

When  the  boat  touched  shore  Ekkehard  walked 
toward  the  monastery,  which  stands  in  the  middle  of 
the  island  hidden  among  fruit-trees  and  vineyards. 

The  autumn  was  already  advanced,  and  both 
old  and  young  were  occupied  with  the  vintage. 
Here  and  there  the  hood  of  a  serving-brother  stood 
out  dark  against  the  red  and  yellow  vine-leaves. 
On  the  watch-tower  the  fathers  of  the  monastery 
stood  together  in  a  group,  enjoying  the  spectacle 
of  the  busy  crowd  of  grape-gatherers  below.  They 
had  just  been  receiving  the  benediction  of  the  new 
wine,^^  which  was  brought  in  a  large  marble  vase, 
believed  to  be  one  of  the  identical  vessels  used  at 
the  marriage  at  Cana,  Joyous  greetings  and  dis- 
tant shouts  of  merriment  were  heard  in  all  the 
vineyards. 

Unobserved,  Ekkehard  reached  the  monastery; 
but  not  until  he  was  within  a  few  steps  of  it  did  he 
perceive  the  clumsy  tower  with  its  porches,  the 
arches  of  which  are  ornamented  alternately  with 
red  and  gray  sandstone. 

In  the  court  all  was  hushed  and  silent.  A  large 
dog  wagged  its  tail  at  the  stranger,  without  giving 
a  single  growl ;  it  never  barked  at  any  one  wearing 
a  cowl.  The  beautiful  autumn  day  had  enticed  all 
the  brotherhood  into  the  open  air.^^ 

Ekkehard  now  entered  the  vaulted  reception  room 
near  the  entrance.     Even  the  doorkeeper's  chamber, 


94  EKKEHARD 

next  to  it,  was  empty.  Open  casks  were  standing 
about ;  some  already  filled  with  the  newly  pressed 
wine.  Behind  these,  against  the  wall,  was  a  stone 
bench ;  Ekkehard  was  tired  from  his  long  walk, 
and  the  lake  breeze  had  been  blowing  freshly  about 
his  head;  he  suddenly  felt  sleepy:  so  he  put  his 
staff  against  the  wall,  stretched  himself  out  on  the 
bench,  and  fell  asleep. 

Shortly  after,  a  slow  step  approached  the  cool 
room.  This  was  the  worthy  brother  Rudimann, 
the  cellarer.  He  carried  a  small  stone  jug  in  his 
right  hand,  and  had  come  to  fulfil  his  duty  by 
tasting  the  new  wine.  The  smile  of  a  man  con- 
tented with  himself  and  with  the  world  was  on  his 
lips ;  and  his  belly  had  thriven  well,  like  the  house- 
hold of  an  industrious  man.  Over  it  he  wore  a 
white  apron,  and  at  his  left  side  jingled  a  ponderous 
bunch  of  keys. 

As  cellarer  shall  be  chosen  a  wise  7nan,  of  ripe 
jiidgjnent,  sober  and  no  glutton,  no  qiiarreller  or 
fault-finder,  7io  idler  and  no  spendthrift ;  but  a  pious 
7nan,  who  shall  be  to  the  whole  brotherhood  like  a 
father'^"'-,  and,  so  far  as  the  weakness  of  the  flesh 
allowed,  Rudimann  strove  to  unite  in  himself  such 
qualities  as  were  requisite  for  the  cellarer.  At  the 
same  time  he  had  to  perform  the  unpleasant  duty 
of  inflicting  the  punishments  ;  and,  whenever  one  of 
the  brothers  became  liable  to  a  flogging,  it  was  he 
who  tied  him  to  the  pillar,  and  no  one  could  then 
complain  of  the  weakness  of  his  arm.  That  he, 
moreover,  sometimes  uttered  malicious  speeches 
with  a  malicious  tongue,  and  tried  to  entertain  the 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  95 

abbot  with  insinuations  against  his  fellow-monks,  — 
like  the  squirrel  Ratatoskr  in  the  Edda,^^  which  ran 
up  and  down  the  ash-tree  Yggdrasil,  and  repeated 
the  eagle's  angry  speeches  at  the  top  of  the  tree 
to  Nidhoggr  the  dragon  at  the  bottom,  —  this  was 
not  required  of  him  :   he  did  it  of  his  own  free  will. 

To-day,  however,  he  wore  a  very  benign  and 
mild  expression,  for  which  the  excellent  vintage  was 
responsible ;  and  he  dipped  his  drinking-vessel  into 
an  open  cask,  held  it  toward  the  window,  and  then 
slowly  sipped  the  thick  liquid.  He  did  not  observe 
the  sleeping  guest. 

"  This  also  is  sweet,"  said  he,  "  though  it  comes 
from  the  northern  side  of  the  hill.  Praised  be  the 
Lord,  who  has  taken  into  due  consideration  the 
necessities  of  his  servants  on  this  island,  and,  after 
so  many  meagre  years,  has  given  us  a  fat  one,  free 
from  acid !  " 

Meanwhile  Kerhildis  the  upper  maid-servant, 
passed  the  door,  carrying  a  tub  full  of  grapes  to 
the  press. 

"Kerhildis,"  whispered  the  cellarer,  "most  trust- 
worthy of  all  maids,  take  my  jug,  and  fill  it  with 
new  wine  from  the  Wartberg,  —  which  you  will  find 
over  there  by  the  press,  —  that  I  may  compare  it  with 
this  one." 

Kerhildis  the  upper  maid-servant  put  down  her 
load  and  went  away,  and,  speedily  returning,  stood 
before  Rudimann  with  the  jug  in  her  hand.  Archly 
looking  up  at  him,  for  he  was  a  head  taller  than  she 
was,  she  said,  "  To  your  health." 

Rudimann  took  a  long,  pious,  comparative  draught, 


96  EKKEHARD 

so  that  the  new  wine  might  melt  on  his  lips  like 
snow  in  the  morning  sun. 

"It  will  all  be  sweet  and  good,"  said  he,  lifting 
his  eyes  with  emotion ;  and  that  they  then  fell  on  the 
maid-servant's  beaming  countenance  was  scarcely 
the  cellarer's  fault,  as  she  had  had  plenty  of  time  in 
which  to  retire. 

So  he  continued  with  unction :  "  But  when  I  look 
at  you,  Kerhildis,  my  heart  becomes  doubly  glad; 
for  you  also  thrive  as  the  cloister-wine  does  this 
autumn,  and  your  cheeks  are  red  like  pomegranates 
waiting  to  be  plucked.  Rejoice  with  me  over  the 
goodness  of  this  year,  most  faithful  of  all  maids." 

And  the  cellarer  put  his  arm  round  the  waist  of 
the  dark-eyed  maid,^^  who  did  not  resist  very  strenu- 
ously, —  for  what  is  a  kiss  at  vintage  time  ?  and, 
besides,  she  knew  Rudimann  to  be  a  man  of  sober 
character,  who  did  everything  in  moderation,  as 
befitted  a  cellarer. 

The  sleeper  started  up  from  his  slumbers  on  the 
stone  bench.  A  peculiar  noise,  such  as  could  be 
caused  by  nothing  else  except  by  a  well-meant  and 
well-applied  kiss,  struck  his  ear ;  and  looking  through 
the  opening  between  the  casks,  he  saw  the  cellarer's 
garments,  and  flowing  tresses  which  did  not  belong 
to  that  habit. 

He  started  up  :  ungovernable  rage  took  possession 
of  him ;  for  Ekkehard  was  young  and  zealous,  and 
accustomed  to  the  strict  disciphne  of  St.  Gall,  and 
he  had  never  before  dreamed  that  it  was  possible 
for  a  man  in  the  holy  garb  of  the  order  to  kiss  a 
woman. 


I 


EKKEHAKD'S  DEPARTURE  97 

His  stout  hazel-staff  still  lay  in  his  arm  :  he  sprang 
forward,  and  with  it  struck  the  cellarer  a  vigorous 
blow,  which  extended  from  the  right  shoulder  to  the 
left  hip,  and  which  fitted  like  a  coat  made  according 
to  measure  ;  and  before  Rudimann  had  recovered 
from  the  first  shock,  there  followed  a  second  and 
third  blow  of  the  same  description.  He  dropped  his 
pitcher,  which  was  shattered  to  pieces  on  the  stone 
floor ;  Kerhildis  fled. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  pitcher  at  the  marriage  at 
Cana  !  "  cried  Rudimann,  "  what  is  the  meaning  of 
this  ! "  and  turned  round  on  his  assailant ;  then,  for 
the  first  time,  the  two  looked  into  each  other's 
faces. 

"  'T  is  a  present  which  St.  Gallus  sends  to  St. 
Pirmin,"  ^^o  replied  Ekkehard,  fiercely,  again  raising 
his  stick. 

"  I  might  have  guessed  as  much,"  roared  the 
cellarer,  —  "St.  Gall's  crab-apples!  You  may  be 
recognized  by  your  fruits.  Rough  ground,  rough 
faith,  and  rougher  people  !  ^"^^  Wait  for  the  return 
present !  " 

He  looked  about  for  some  weapon :  a  good-sized 
broom  stood  in  the  corner ;  he  armed  himself  with  it, 
and  was  just  about  to  attack  the  disturber  of  his 
peace,  when  a  commanding  voice  called  out  from 
the  gate  :  — 

"  Stop  !  Peace  be  with  you  !  "  and  a  second  voice, 
with  a  foreign  accent,  exclaimed,  *'  What  Holofernes 
has  sprung  out  of  the  ground  here  ?  " 

It  was  the  Abbot  Wazmann,  who,  with  his  friend 
Simon  Bardo,  the  former  protospatliar^^'  of  the 
VOL.  I.  — 7 


98  EKKEHARD 

Greek  emperor,  was  returning  from  blessing  the 
new  wine.  The  noise  of  the  quarrel  had  interrupted 
a  very  learned  exegesis  by  the  Greek  of  the  siege 
of  the  town  of  Hai  by  Joshua,  and  the  strategic 
mistakes  of  the  king  of  Hai'  when  he  went  out  at 
the  head  of  his  army  toward  the  desert.  The  old 
Greek  commander  —  who  had  left  his  home  so  as  not 
to  lose  his  strength  of  body  and  mind  in  the  peace- 
ful state  of  Byzantium  —  employed  his  leisure  hours 
very  zealously  in  the  study  of  tactics;  and  he  was 
jestingly  called  "  the  Captain  of  Capernaum,"  al- 
though he  had  adopted  the  garb  of  the  order. 

"  Let  them  have  the  fight  out,"  cried  Simon  Bardo, 
who  had  witnessed  with  regret  the  interruption  of 
the  combat  by  the  abbot.  "  In  my  dreams  last 
night  I  saw  a  rain  of  fiery  sparks.  That  means 
fighting." 

But  the  abbot  —  in  whose  eyes  the  self-assumed 
power  of  younger  brothers  was  most  obnoxious  — 
commanded  peace,  and  desired  to  hear  the  cause 
of  the  quarrel  before  him,  that  he  might  settle  it. 

Then  Rudimann  began  to  tell  the  story,  and  kept 
back  nothing. 

"A  slight  misbehavior,"  murmured  the  abbot. 
"  Chapter  forty-six :  concerning  misbehavior  during 
work-time,  while  gardening  or  fishing,  in  the  kitchen 
or  cellar.  Allemannic  law :  concerning  that  which 
is  done  to  maids.  .  .  .  Let  the  antagonist  speak." 

Then  Ekkehard  also  told  what  he  had  witnessed, 
and  how  he  had  acted  on  the  impulse  of  a  righteous 
indignation. 

"  This   is   complicated,"    murmured     the    abbot. 


EKKEHARD'S  DEPARTURE  99 

"  Chapter  seventy :  no  brother  shall  dare  to  strike 
a  fellow-brother,  without  the  abbot's  sanction. 
Chapter  seventy-two :  concerning  that  which  is 
becoming  in  a  monk  ;  and  v/hich  leads  to  eternal 
life.  .  .  .  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

"  Twenty-three." 

Then  the  abbot  seriously  resumed.  "  The  quarrel 
is  ended.  You,  brother  cellarer,  may  look  on  the 
blows  you  received  as  just  retribution  for  your  for- 
getf ulness ;  and  you,  stranger  from  St.  Gall,  I  might 
well  bid  to  continue  your  journey,  for  the  laws  say  : 
Whenever  a  stranger  monk  from  distant  provinces 
enters  a  monasteiy^  he  shall  be  satisfied  with  every- 
thing he  finds  there ^  allowi7ig  himself  only  to  reprove 
mildly^  and  not  making  hiniself  officious  in  atiy  way. 
In  consideration  of  your  youth,  however,  as  well  as 
the  blameless  motive  of  your  action,  you  shall  be 
allowed  to  pass  an  hour  in  devotion  at  the  chief 
altar  of  our  church,  in  expiation  of  your  rashness ; 
and  after  that  you  will  be  welcome  as  the  guest  of 
the  monastery." 

The  abbot  with  his  sentence  fared  as  many  an 
impartial  judge  has  fared  before.  Neither  of  the 
adversaries  was  satisfied.  They  obeyed,  but  they 
were  not  reconciled.  While  Ekkehard  was  per- 
forming his  expiatory  prayers  in  the  church,  many 
thoughts  concerning  good-will,  timely  zeal,  and  crit- 
icising other  people  thereon,  crossed  his  mind.  It 
was  one  of  the  first  lessons  he  learned  from  contact 
with  other  men.  He  returned  to  the  monastery 
by  a  little  side-door. 

What   Kerhildis   the   upper-maid  servant   related 


100  EKKEHARD 

that  evening  to  her  companions  in  the  sewing-room 
at  Oberzell — where  they  had  to  make  a  dozen  new 
monks'  habits  by  the  flickering  light  of  the  pine- 
wood —  was  couched  in  such  very  insulting  terms 
regarding  the  disciples  of  the  holy  Gallus  that  it 
had  better  not  be  repeated  here  !  .  .  . 


MOENGAL  lOI 


CHAPTER   VI. 


MOENGAL. 


At  the  very  time  that  Ekkehard  was  performing 
his  compulsory  devotions  in  the  monastery  church 
at  Reichenau,  Frau  Hadwig  was  on  the  balcony  of 
the  Hohentwiel  looking  out  into  the  distance  ;  but 
not  toward  the  sunset,  for  the  sun  was  going  down 
to  his  rest  at  her  back,  behind  the  dark  hills  of  the 
Black  Forest :  Frau  Hadwig  was  looking  with  eager, 
expectant  eyes  toward  the  lake,  and  the  path  which 
led  from  it  up  to  the  Hohentwiel.  The  view,  how- 
ever, did  not  appear  to  satisfy  her ;  when  the  twi- 
light faded  into  darkness  she  went  in,  rather  dis- 
contentedly, 1°^  ordered  her  chamberlain  to  come, 
and  conversed  a  long  time  with  him.  .  .  . 

Early  the  next  morning  Ekkehard  stood  at  the 
threshold  of  the  monastery,  ready  to  continue  his 
journey.  The  abbot  was  also  up  betimes,  and  was 
taking  a  walk  in  the  garden.  The  serious  look 
of  the  judge  was  no  longer  visible  on  his  face. 
Ekkehard  bade  him  good-bye.  Then  the  abbot, 
with  a  meaning  smile,  whispered  in  his  ear, 
"  Happy  man,  who  has  to  teach  grammar  to  such 
a  fair  pupil !  "  These  words  cut  Ekkehard  to  the 
heart.  An  old  story  rose  in  his  memory ;  for  even 
within   cloister  walls   there   are   evil    tongues,   and 


I02  EKKEHARD 

traditional  stories  which  go  round  from  mouth  to 
mouth. 

"  You  are  probably  thinking  of  the  time,  Holy- 
Sir,"  replied  he,  tauntingly,  "  when  you  were  in- 
structing the  nun  Clotildis  in  the  art  of  dialectics."  i°* 

Whereupon  he  went  down  to  his  boat.  The 
abbot  would  much  rather  have  taken  a  pot  of 
pepper  for  his  breakfast  than  have  had  that  fact 
called  up  to  his  mind.  "  A  happy  journey ! "  he 
called  out  after  his  departing  guest. 

From  that  time  Ekkehard  had  to  endure  the 
enmity  of  the  monks  at  Reichenau.  This,  however, 
he  little  heeded ;  and  was  rowed  down  the  lake  by 
the  same  boatman  of  Ermatingen. 

Dreamily  he  gazed  from  his  boat  into  the  dis- 
tance. Under  the  transparent  mist  of  the  morning 
undulated  the  lake ;  on  the  left  arose  the  slender 
turrets  of  Egino's  cloister,  Niederzell ;  on  the  other 
side  the  island  stretched  out  its  farthest  points.  A 
large  stone-built  castle  could  be  seen  through  the 
willow-bushes,  but  Ekkehard's  eyes  were  fixed  on  a 
more  distant  point  toward  which  he  was  sailing. 
Proud  and  grand,  in  steep,  bold  outlines,  a  rocky 
mountain-peak  rose  above  the  hills  on  the  shore, 
like  the  thought  of  a  mighty  spirit,  which,  ponder- 
ous and  pregnant  with  action,  towers  above  the 
dead  level  around.  The  morning  sun  was  casting 
bright  gleams  of  light  on  the  rocky  edges  and  steep 
walls.  Far  to  the  right  several  lower  hills  of  the 
same  shape  stood  modestly  like  advance  guards 
posted  there  by  the  Mighty  One. 

"  The  Hohentwiel,"  said  the  boat-man  to  Ekke- 


MOENGAL  103 

hard.  The  young  monk  had  never  before  beheld 
the  place  of  his  destination,  but  he  did  not  need 
the  boatman's  information.  "  Such  must  bfe  the 
mountain  which  she  has  chosen  for  her  residence." 
An  earnest  mood  took  possession  of  Ekkehard. 
Mountain-peaks,  wide  ranges  of  water  and  sky, 
splendid  landscapes,  always  produce  seriousness.  It 
is  only  the  actions  of  men  that  bring  a  smile  to  the 
lips  of  the  spectator.  He  recalled  the  apostle  John, 
and  how  he  went  to  the  rocky  Isle  of  Patmos,  and 
what  a  revelation  had  come  to  him  there.  .  .  . 

The  boatman  rowed  steadily  onwards.  They 
were  already  approaching  the  precipitous  cape  on 
which  Radolfszell  and  a  few  scattered  houses  were 
situated,  when,  suddenly,  a  strange  little  canoe  put 
into  the  lake.  It  was  made  of  the  hollow  trunk  of 
a  tree,  but  roofed  over  and  quite  covered  up  with 
green  boughs  and  water-rushes,  so  that  the  one  who 
directed  it  was  invisible.  The  wind  was  drifting 
it  toward  a  thick  plantation  of  water-reeds  and 
bulrushes  near  the  shore. 

Ekkehard  ordered  his  boatman  to  stop  this  curi- 
ous little  craft,  and  in  obedience  he  pushed  his  oar 
into  the  green  covering. 

"  Pestilence  and  leprosy  befall  you ! "  called  out 
a  deep  bass  voice  from  the  inside ;  '■'■  oletim  et  opcravt 
perdidil  All  my  labor's  lost!  Wild  geese  and 
teal  are  gone  to  the  Devil !'' 

A  covey  of  water- fowl,  which,  hoarsely  shrieking, 
rose  up  from  the  rushes  and  flew  inland,  corrobo- 
rated the  truth  of  this  exclamation. 

There    was    a   rustling    and    pushing   among   the 


I04  EKKEHARD 

leafy  boughs,  and  a  brown,  weather-beaten,  and 
deeply  furrowed  countenance  peered  out.  Its  owner 
was  tlad  in  a  faded  stole,  which  had  been  cut  off  at 
the  knees  by  a  knife  in  an  unskilled  hand,  and 
hung  down  in  a  ragged  fringe.  At  the  girdle,  in- 
stead of  a  rosary,  was  a  quiver  full  of  arrows :  while 
the  strung  bow  lay  at  the  bow  of  the  boat. 

"  Pestilence  and  leprosy  "  —  once  more  began 
the  occupant  of  the  canoe ;  but  when  he  beheld 
Ekkehard's  tonsure  and  Benedictine  garment,  he 
quickly  changed  his  tone :  "  Hoiho !  salve  con- 
frater !  By  the  beard  of  St.  Patrick  of  Armagh! 
If  your  inquisitiveness  had  left  me  unmolested 
another  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  might  have  invited 
you  to  a  goodly  repast  of  the  game  of  our  lake." 
With  emotion  he  gazed  at  the  covey  of  wild  ducks 
vanishing  in  the  distance. 

"Ekkehard  smilingly  lifted  his  fore-finger:  '■'■  A'e 
clericus  venationi  incitmbat !  No  consecrated  ser- 
vant of  God  shall  be  a  sportsman  !  "  ^^^ 

"  Your  book-wisdom  does  not  do  for  us  at  the 
Untersee,"  exclaimed  the  other.  "Are  you  sent 
hither,  perchance,  to  hold  a  church  inspection  for 
the  parish-priest  of  Ra^olfszell  ?  " 

"  The  parish-priest  of  Radolfszell  ?  "  inquired  Ek- 
kehard in  his  turn.  •'  Do  I  verily  see  the  brother 
Marcellus  ?  " 

He  cast  a  side-look  on  the  sportsman's  right  arm, 
from  which  the  sleeve  was  turned  back,  and  there 
beheld,  tatooed  in  rough  outlines,  a  picture  of  our 
Saviour,  encircled  by  a  serpent,  over  which  stood 
the  words,  "  Christus  vindex.'"  i*^^ 


MO^NGAL  105 

"  Brother  Marcellus?  "  laughed  the  other,  pushing 
his  hair  back  from  his  forehead,  '•''  fuiimis  Troes  / 
welcome  in  Moengal's  realm  !  " 

He  stepped  out  from  his  hollow  tree  into  Ekke- 
hard's  boat;  and,  kissing  him  on  cheek  and  fore- 
head, said  :  "  Health  to  St.  Gallus  !  And  now  let  us 
land  together;  you  are  my  guest,  even  if  we  have  no 
wild  ducks." 

"  I  had  conceived  a  very  different  idea  of  you," 
said  Ekkehard,  —  and  this  was  not  strange. 

Nothing  gives  a  more  erroneous  idea  of  men 
than  to  come  to  the  places  where  they  once  lived 
and  worked ;  to  see  fragmentary  relics  of  their 
activity  ;  and  from  the  remarks  of  those  left  behind 
to  form  our  impression  of  those  that  are  gone. 
That  which  is  deepest  and  most  characteristic  of  a 
man  is  frequently  unnoticed  by  others,  even  though 
it  be  open  to  the  day ;  and  in  tradition  it  disappears 
entirely. 

When  Ekkehard  joined  the  monastery,  the 
brother  Marcellus  had  already  left  it  to  assume  the 
priest's  office  at  Radolfszell.  Some  neatly  written 
manuscripts,  such  as  Cicero's  '' De  Officiis''  and  a 
Latin  Priscian  with  Irish  characters  between  the 
lines,  still  kept  up  the  remembrance  of  him.  His 
name,  too,  was  held  in  great  veneration  in  the  inner 
monastery-school,  where  he  had  been  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  teachers ;  his  life  had  been 
blameless  ;  but  since  then  nothing  had  been  heard 
of  him  at  St.  Gall.  Therefore  Ekkehard  had  ex- 
pected to  find  a  serious,  kan,  pale-faced  scholar 
instead   of  the  lively  sportsman   of   the   lake. 


I06  EKKE*HARD 

The  shores  of  Radolfszell  were  soon  reached.  A 
thin  silver  coin,  stamped  on  one  side  only,  satisfied 
the  boatman.  ^^'  They  stepped  on  shore.  A  few 
houses  and  rude  fishermen's  huts  surrounded  the 
little  church  which  holds  the  remains  of  St.  Radolf. 

"  We  have  reached  Moengal's  dwelling,"  said  the 
old  man.  "  Come  in.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  you 
will  not  carry  tales  about  my  house  to  the  bishop 
of  Constance,  like  the  deacon  of  Rheinau,  who 
pretended  that  he  found  the  jugs  and  drinking- 
horns  of  a  size  that  ought  to  have  been  objection- 
able in  any  century."  ^^^ 

They  entered  into  a  wainscoted  hall.  Stag-antlers 
and  bison-horns  hung  over  the  entrance  ;  hunting- 
spears,  lime-twigs,  and  fishing-tackle  of  every  de- 
scription ornamented  the  walls  in  picturesque  con- 
fusion. Close  to  an  upturned  cask  in  one  corner 
stood  a  dice-box.  Had  it  not  been  the  abode  of 
the  parish-priest,  it  might  have  been  imagined  that 
the  imperial  gamekeeper  dwelt  there. 

In  a  moment  a  jug  of  somewhat  sour  wine  was 
placed  on  the  oak  table ;  bread  and  butter  was 
fetched  out  of  the  storeroom ;  and  when  the  priest 
returned  from  an  expedition  to  the  kitchen,  he  held 
up  his  habit  like  a  filled  apron,  and  poured  down  a 
shower  of  smoked  fish  before  his  guest. 

"  Heji  /  qitod  anseres  fugasti  antvogelosque  et  horo- 
tuijiblum  /  Alas  that  you  should  have  frightened 
away  the  wild  geese,  as  well  as  the  ducks  and  the 
bittern!  "10®  said  he;  "but  when  a  person  has  to 
choose  between  smoke^  fish  and  nothing,  he  always 
chooses  the  former." 


MOENGAL  107 

Members  of  the  same  confraternity  quickly  be- 
come friends.  A  lively  conversation  was  kept  up 
during  the  meal.  But  the  old  man  had  more  ques- 
tions to  ask  than  Ekkehard  could  answer.  Of 
many  a  one  of  his  former  brothers  nothing  else 
was  to  be  told  than  that  his  coffin  had  been  laid  in 
the  vault  with  the  others ;  a  cross  on  the  wall  and 
an  entry  in  the  death-register  being  the  sole  traces 
left  that  he  had  ever  lived.  The  stories,  jokes,  and 
quarrels  which  had  been  told  thirty  years  before 
had  been  replaced  by  new  ones,  and  all  that  had 
happened  since  did  not  much  interest  him.  Only 
when  Ekkehard  told  him  about  the  end  and  aim  of 
his  journey  he  exclaimed  :  "  Hoiho,  confrater  !  how 
could  you  cry  out  against  all  sport,  when  you  your- 
self aim  at  such  a  noble  deer  !  " 

But  Ekkehard  turned  the  subject  by  asking: 
"  Have  you  never  felt  any  longing  for  the  quiet  and 
study  within  the  monastery  walls?  " 

At  that  question  the  parish-priest's  eyes  flashed : 
"  Was  Catilina  ever  tortured  by  any  longing  for  the 
wooden  benches  of  the  Roman  senate,  after  it  was 
said  of  him,  excessit,  evasit,  erupii  ? — Young  men 
cannot  understand  that.  The  flesh-pots  of  Egypt ! 
ille  terrarum  mihi praeter  omnes  .  .  .  said  the  dog 
to  the  kennel  in  which  he  had  lain  seven  years." 

"  No,  I  certainly  do  not  understand  you,''  replied 
Ekkehard.  "  What  was  it  that  brought  about  such 
a  change  in  your  views?  " 

He  cast  a  side-glance  at  the  sporting  implements. 

"Time,"  replied  the  priest,  beating  his  fish  on 
the   table   to   make   it  tender,    ^'  time   and  growinsr 


108  EKKEHARD 

experience.  But  this  you  need  not  repeat  to  your 
abbot.  I  also  was  once  such  a  youth  as  you  are 
now ;  for  Ireland  produces  pious  people,  as  is  well 
known  here.  Eheu  I  what  a  blameless  being  I  was 
when  I  returned  with  Uncle  Marcus  from  our 
pilgrimage  to  Rome.^^^  You  should  have  seen  the 
young  Moengal  then !  The  whole  world  was  not 
worth  a  gudgeon  to  him,  while  psalm-singing,  vigils, 
and  spiritual  exercises  were  his  heart's  delight. 
Thus  we  entered  the  monastery  of  St.  Gallus,  — 
for  in  honor  of  a  countryman  an  honest  Irishman 
does  not  mind  going  a  few  miles  out  of  his  way,  — 
and  finally  I  stayed  there  altogether.  Clothes,  books, 
money,  and  knowledge, — the  whole  man  became 
the  monastery's  own,  and  the  Irish  Moengal  was 
called  Marcellus,  and  threw  his  uncle's  silver  and 
gold  coins  out  of  the  window,  so  that  the  bridge 
leading  back  to  the  world  might  be  broken  down. 
Those  were  fine  times,  I  tell  you;  for  I  fasted  and 
prayed  and  studied  to  my  heart's  content. 

"  But  too  much  sitting  is  injurious  to  a  man,  and 
much  knowledge  makes  superilous  work.  Many  an 
evening  I  have  dug  like  a  book-worm,  and  disputed 
like  a  magpie ;  for  there  was  nothing  that  could 
not  be  proved :  Where  the  head  of  St.  John  the 
baptist  was  buried,  and  in  what  language  the 
serpent  had  spoken  to  Adam,  —  all  was  clearly 
demonstrated ;  while  such  ideas  as  that  human 
beings  come  into  the  world  with  bones  and  flesh 
and  blood  were  never  taken  into  consideration  at 
all.  Hoiho,  confrater  I  then  there  came  evil  hours 
for  me,    such  as  I  hope  may  be  spared   you.     My 


MOENGAL  109 

head  grew  heavy  and  my  hands  restless.  Neither 
at  the  writing-desk  nor  in  the  church  could  I  find 
rest  or  peace ;  '  Hence !  hence !  and  away,'  was 
the  inward  cry  of  my  heart.  I  once  said  to  the  old 
Thieto  that  I  had  made  a  discovery.  '  What  dis- 
covery ?' quoth  he.  That  outside  the  cloister-walls 
there  was  fresh  air  .  .  .  Then  they  forbade  me  to 
go  out;  but  many  a  night  did  I  steal  up  to  the 
belfry  111  and  looked  out  and  envied  the  bats,  that 
could  fly  over  into  the  pine-woods  .  .  .  Coiifrater^ 
against  such  a  state  there  is  no  help  in  fasting  and 
prayer,  for  what  is  in  human  nature  must  come  out. 

"  The  late  abbot  at  last  took  pity  on  me,  and 
sent  me  here  for  a  year;  but  the  brother  Marcellus 
never  returned.  When  I  cut  down  a  pine-tree  in 
the  sweat  of  my  brow,  and  made  myself  a  boat 
out  of  it,  and  struck  down  the  bird  flying  in  the  air, 
then  I  began  to  understand  what  it  meant  to  be 
healthy.  Hunting  and  fishing  drive  away  morbid 
fancies.  In  this  way  I  have  performed  the  priest's 
duties  at  Radolfszell  for  thirty  years,  rusticitate 
quadain  imbiitiis^  —  somewhat  after  the  manner  of 
a  peasant,  but  what  does  it  matter?  '  I  am  like  the 
pelican  in  the  wilderness,  and,  like  the  owl,  I  have 
built  my  nest  amidst  ruins,'  says  the  Psalmist ;  but 
I  am  fresh  and  strong,  and  old  Moengal  does  not 
intend  to  become  a  dead  man  yet  awhile,  and  he 
knows  that  he  is  at  least  secure  against  one 
evil  .  .  ." 

"  And  what  evil  is  that  ?  "  inquired  Ekkehard. 

"  That  St.  Peter  will  not  one  day  give  me  a  crack 
on  the  forehead  with  the  heavenly  door-key,  saying, 


I  lO  EKKEHARD 

'  Off  with  you,  who  have  meddled  with   vain  and 
idle  philosophy  !  '  " 

Ekkehard  did  not  try  further  to  elicit  MoengaPs 
heart-confidences.  "  I  suppose,"  said  he,  "  that  you 
have  pretty  hard  work  with  your  ecclesiastical  duties. 
Hardened  hearts,  heathendom,  and  heresy.  ..." 

'"Tis  not  so  bad  as  they  make  it  out  to  be," 
said  the  old  man.  *'  To  be  sure,  in  the  mouths  of 
bishops  and  chamberlains  and  in  the  reports  of  the 
session  and  the  synod,  it  seems  terrifying  enough 
when  they  describe  the  heathenish  delusions,  and 
threaten  them  with  punishment.  Here  we  have 
simply  the  old  faith,  —  tracing  the  Godhead  in  tree  and 
river  and  on  breezy  mountain-heights.  Every  one  in 
this  world  must  have  his  apocalypse,  and  the  people 
of  the  Hegau  find  theirs  in  the  open  air  .  .  .  and 
really  one  may  have  his  thoughts  when,  early  in 
the  morning,  one  stands  in  the  water-reeds  and  sees 
the  glorious  sun  arise.  .  .  .  Nevertheless,  they  come 
to  me  on  the  Lord's  day  and  chant  the  mass  ;  and  if 
the  authorities  did  not  so  frequently  snatch  the  shil- 
ling out  of  their  bags  as  a  fine,  they  would  far  more 
readily  open  their  hearts  to  the  gospel.  A  bumper, 
confrater.  to  the  fresh  air  !  " 

"  Allow  me,"  said  Ekkehard,  with  dehcate  tact.  "  I 
will  drink  to  the  health  of  Marcellus.  the  teacher  at 
the  cloister-school,  and  the  author  of  the  Irish  trans- 
lation of  Priscian." 

"Very  well,"  laughed  Moengal.  "But  with  re- 
gard to  the  Irish  translation,  I  am  afraid  there  is  a 
catch  in  it !  "  "^ 

Ekkehard  felt  a  great  longing   to  reach   his  Ho- 


MOENGAL  I  1 1 

hentwiel ;  for  any  one  who  is  close  to  the  end  of  a 
journey  is  loath  to  tarry  long.  "  The  mountain 
stands  fast  enough,"  said  Moengal ;  "  it  will  never 
run  away  from  you." 

But  Moengal's  wine,  and  his  discourse  about  fresh 
air,  had  nothing  very  tempting  for  one  who  was 
about  to  go  to  a  duchess  !     So  he  started  to  go. 

"  I  will  accompany  you  to  the  borders  of  my 
district,"  said  the  priest,  "for  to-day  you  may  still 
walk  by  my  side,  in  spite  of  my  faded  garments ; 
but  when  you  are  onc^  settled  on  yonder  mountain, 
you  will  believe  yourself  transfigured,  and  you  will 
become  a  grand  lord ;  and  on  the  day  when  at  Frau 
Hadwig's  side  you  pass  Radolfszell  on  horseback, 
and  old  Moengal  is  standing  on  the  threshold,  then, 
perhaps,  you  will  hardly  deign  to  wave  your  hand 
to  him,  —  that  is  the  way  of  the  world.  When 
the  '  heuerling '  grows  big,  then  it  is  called  '  fel- 
chen,'  and  devours  the  small  ones  of  its  own 
race." 

"  It  is  not  fair  to  say  such  things,"  said  Ekkehard, 
and  he  kissed  his  Irish  brother. 

Then  they  set  out  together,  and  Moengal  took  his 
lime-twigs  with  him,  therewith  to  ensnare  birds  on 
his  return.  It  was  a  long  way  through  the  pine- 
wood,  long  and  still. 

Where  the  trees  were  less  crowded  together, 
they  could  see  the  dark  mass  of  the  Hohentwiel 
throwing  its  shadow  over  them.  Moengal  with 
keen  eyes  looked  searchingly  along  the  forest  path, 
and  muttered,  "  There  's  something  coming  through 
the  clearing:." 


112  EKKEHARD 

They  had  gone  a  few  steps  farther  when  Moengal 
seized  his  companion's  arm,  and,  pointing  forward, 
said,  "  These  are  neither  wild  ducks  nor  animals 
of  the  forest !  " 

A  sound  like  the  neighing  of  a  horse  was  heard 
in  the  distance.  .  .  .  Moengal  sprang  aside,  glided 
a  long  distance  through  the  young  sapling  trees, 
and,  lying  down  on  the  ground,  listened  intently. 

"  Sportsman's  folly,"  muttered  Ekkehard  to  him- 
self, and  waited  for  him.  Moengal  came  back  : 
"  Brother,"  he  asked,  "  is  St.  Callus  having  a  feud 
with  any  of  the  mighty  ones  in  the  land  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Have  you  offended  some  one  .'*  " 

"  No." 

"  Strange,"  said  the  old  man,  '•  for  three  armed 
men  are  coming  toward  us." 

"  Most  likely  they  are  messengers  sent  by  the 
duchess  to  receive  me,"  said  Ekkehard,  with  a  proud 
smile. 

"  Hoiho  !  "  muttered  Moengal,  "  you  've  missed 
it.  That  is  not  the  livery  of  the  duchess's  vassals.' 
The  helmet  has  no  distinguishing  mark,  and  no 
one   on  the  Hohentwiel  wears  a  gray  mantle  ! " 

He  stood  still  now. 

"  Forward  !  "  said  Ekkehard.  "  He  whose  con- 
science is  clear  is  protected  by  the  angels  of  the 
Lord." 

"  Not  always  in  the  Hegau,"  replied  the  old 
man.  There  was  no  more  time  for  further  dia- 
logue, for  the  tramp  of  horses'  hoofs  and  the  clat- 
tering  of  arms   were   heard,   and   three    horsemen, 


MOENGAL  113 

with  closed  visors  and  drawn  swords,  came  galloping 
up.  .  .  . 

"  Follow  me  !  "  cried  the  priest,  "  maturate  fu- 
gamf'  He  threw  his  lime-twigs  on  the  ground,  and 
tried  to  drag  Ekkehard  to  one  side ;  but  when  he 
resisted,  Moengal  sprang  into  the  bushes  alone. 
The  thorns  added  new  rents  to  the  old  ones  in  his 
well-worn  garments ;  but,  tearing  himself  free,  he 
escaped  into  the  thicket  with  the  agility  of  a  squir- 
rel.    He  knew  the  tricks  ! 

"It  is  he ! "  cried  the  foremost  of  the  riders ; 
whereupon  the  others  sprang  down  from  their 
horses.  Ekkehard  stood  proudly  waiting  for  them. 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  —  no  answer.  He  seized 
the  crucifix  suspended  from  his  girdle,  and  was  just 
beginning  with,  "  In  the  name  of  the  Crucified  ".  .  . 
when  he  found  himself  thrown  on  the  ground. 
Rough,  strong  hands  held  him  as  in  a  vice ;  a 
cord  was  twisted  round  his  arms,  which  were  then 
tied  behind  his  back ;  a  white  handkerchief  was 
bound  tightly  over  his  eyes,  so  that  he  could  see 
nothing,  and  then  the  command,  "  Forward  ! "  was 
given. 

Surprise  and  consternation  took  the  strength  out 
of  his  knees  so  that  he  tottered.  Then  they  took 
him  up  and  carried  him  to  the  entrance  of  the 
forest,  where  four  men  were  waiting  with  a  litter, 
into  which  they  threw  their  victim  ;  and  then  they 
proceeded  along  the  level  ground,  —  Ekkehard  noticed 
by  the  tramp  of  the  horses'  feet  that  his  captors 
remained  at  his  side. 

Whilst  Moengal   was  fleeing  through   the  wood, 

VOL.  I. —8 


114  EKKEHARD 

the  blackbirds  and  linnets  flew  about  so  confidingly 
from  bough  to  bough,  and  the  thrushes'  clear  notes 
sounded  so  tempting  that  he  forgot  the  danger,  and 
his  heart  upbraided  him  for  having  dropped  the 
lime-twigs. 

But  when  the  quail  also  now  sang  out  its  "  Quak- 
kara!  quakkara!  "  ^^^  \<^  sounded  like  a  challenge, 
and  he  turned  his  steps  back  toward  the  spot 
where  he  had  left  his  companion.  Everything  was 
quiet  there,  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  In  the 
distance  he  could  see  the  knights  departing.  Their 
helmets  glittered. 

"  Many  that  are  first  shall  be  last,"  said  he, 
shaking  his  head  and  bending  down  to  pick  up 
his  lime-twigs.  "  He  expected  to  go  to  a  princess's 
castle,  and  a  prison  opens  to  receive  him.  Holy 
Gallus,  pray  for  us !  " 

Moengal  did  not  bother  his  brains  any  further 
about  the  matter.  Such  deeds  of  violence  were  as 
plentiful  as  primroses  in  spring-time. 

Once  a  fish  was  swimming  about  in  the  Boden- 
see  a  fathom  deep,  and  could  not  understand  what 
brought  the  cormorant  down  on  it ;  the  black  diver 
had  it  already  in  its  beak,  and  was  flying  away  with 
it,  and  still  the  fish  could  not  understand  it. 

So  it  was  with  Ekkehard,  lying  bound  in  the 
litter,  —  the  more  he  reflected  about  this  sudden 
change  in  his  fate,  the  less  could  he  comprehend  it. 

Now  the  idea  rose  menacingly  within  him  that 
some  friend  or  blood  relation  of  those  messengers 
of  the  exchequer  might  live  in  the  Hegau,  and  be 
taking   vengance  on   the    innocent   disciple   of   St. 


MOENGAL  1 1 5 

Gallus ;  for  Salomo,  who  had  occasioned  their 
shameful  execution,  had  once  been  abbot  of  St. 
Gall.  In  that  case,  Ekkehard  had  to  prepare  him- 
self for  the  worst;  as  he  well  knew  that  neither 
tonsure  nor  monk's  habit  would  be  any  protection 
against  having  his  eyes  burnt  out,  or  hands  cut  off, 
if  it  was  a  question  of  revenge. 

He  thought  of  death.  With  his  conscience  he 
was  at  peace,  and  death  itself  had  no  terror  for  him ; 
but  yet  in  his  heart  there  arose  the  faint  murmur, 
"  Why  not  a  year  later,  after  my  foot  had  been  set 
on  the  Hohentwiel  ?  " 

Now  his  bearers  were  moving  more  slowly,  as  if 
they  were  walking  uphill.  Into  which  of  the  rob- 
ber's nests  of  that  land  were  they  carrying  him? 
They  had  been  climbing  for  about  half  an  hour 
when  the  tramp  of  the  horses'  hoofs  made  a  hollow 
sound,  as  if  they  were  going  over  a  wooden  bridge. 
Still  everything  was  quiet;  no  watchman's  call. 
The  decisive  moment  must  be  close  at  hand.  Then 
Ekkehard  felt  new  confidence  rising  :  the  words  of 
the  psalm  came  into  his  mind  :  — 

God  is  our  hope  and  sU'etigth^  a  very  present 
help  in  trouble. 

Therefore  will  we  not  fear,  though  the  earth  be 
7noved,  and  though  the  hills  be  candied  into  the  7nidst 
of  the  sea. 

Though  the  waters  thereof  rage  and  swell,  and 
though  the  mo2cntains  shake  at  the  tempest  of  the 
same.  .  .  .  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  us,  the  God  of 
facob  is  our  refuge.     Selah.   .  .  . 

Another   bridge  was  crossed,  a  gate  opened,  the 


Il6  EKKEHARD 

litter  was  put  down;  then  they  took  out  their 
prisoner.  His  foot  touched  the  ground ;  he  felt 
grass,  and  heard  a  whispering,  as  if  there  were 
many  people  around  him.  The  cords  were  loosened 
from  his  arms. 

"  Take  off  the  bandage  from  your  eyes,"  said 
one  of  his  escorts.  He  obeyed,  and  —  oh,  heart,  do 
not  exult !  —  he  was  standing  in  the  courtyard  on 
the  Hohentwiel. 

There  was  a  gay  rustling  in  the  boughs  of  the 
old  linden-tree  ;  a  tent-like  linen  cloth  was  fastened 
to  it;  garlands  of  smallage  and  vine-leaves  were 
hanging  from  it.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  fortress 
were  assembled,  and  on  a  stone  bench  in  the  midst 
sat  the  duchess.  From  her  shoulders  the  princely 
mantle  of  dark  purple  descended  in  heavy  folds ; 
a  sweet  smile  softened  her  haughty  features,  and 
now  the  stately  figure  rose,  and  advanced  toward 
Ekkehard  :  — 

*'  Welcome  to  Hadwig's  domains  I  " 

Ekkehard  had  as  yet  scarcely  realized  what  had 
happened  to  him.  He  was  about  to  kneel  before 
her ;  but  she  graciously  raised  him  to  his  feet  and 
beckoned  with  her  hand  to  the  Chamberlain  Spazzo, 
who,  throwing  aside  his  gray  mantle,  came  forward 
and  embraced  Ekkehard  like  an  old  friend  :  — 

"  In  the  name  of  our  gracious  mistress,  receive 
the  kiss  of  peace." 

The  thought  that  they  were  playing  a  trick  upon 
him  flashed  through  Ekkehard's  mind ;  but  the 
duchess  called  out  laughingly  :  — 

"  You  are  paid  in  your  own  coin.     As  you  did  not 


MOENGAL  117 

allow  the  duchess  of  Suabia  to  cross  the  threshold 
of  St.  Gallus  except  by  being  carried,  it  was  but  fair 
that  she  should  have  the  man  from  St.  Gall  also 
carried  into  her  castle." 

And  Herr  Spazzo  again  shook  hands  with  him, 
and  said  :  — 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  angry ;  we  did  as  we  were 
commanded  !  " 

He  had  first  headed  the  attack,  and  was  now 
helping  to  welcome  Ekkehard,  doing  both  with  the 
same  unalterably  pompous  air;  for  a  chamberlain 
must  be  versatile,  and  even  know  how  to  reconcile 
contradictions. 

Ekkehard  smiled. 

"  For  a  mere  jest,"  said  he,  "  you  have  acted  your 
part  very  seriously."  He  had  especially  in  mind 
how  one  of  the  riders,  when  they  threw  him  into 
the  litter,  had  given  him  a  good  thrust  between  the 
ribs  with  the  brass-bound  but-end  of  his  lance. 
This  had  certainly  not  been  the  duchess's  order ; 
but  the  lancer  had  been  present,  with  Luitfried,  the 
nephew  of  one  of  the  Kainmerboten^  at  the  time 
when  they  overthrew  the  Bishop  Salomo,  and  had 
from  that  time  kept  the  erroneous  notion  that  a 
good  blow  or  kick  was  absolutely  necessary  when 
any  one  belonging  to  the  church  was  to  be  over- 
thrown. "4 

Frau  Hadwig,  now  taking  her  guest  by  the  hand, 
led  him  through  the  castle  court  and  showed  him 
her  airy  abode,  and  the  splendid  view  of  the  Boden- 
see  and  the  distant  Alpine  peaks,  and  all  the  people 
belonging   to   the   castle   asked  for  his  blessing,  — 


Il8  EKKEHARD 

amongst  them  also  the  lancers  and  the  litter-bearers ; 
and  he  blessed  them  all. 

The  duchess  accompanied  him  to  the  entrance 
of  his  chamber.  A  bath  had  been  prepared  for 
him, 115  and  new  clothes  awaited  him  ;  she  told  him 
to  rest  himself  from  the  fatigues  of  the  journey, 
and  Ekkehard  felt  happy  and  light-hearted  after 
his  strange  adventure.   .   .  . 

The  following  night  it  came  to  pass  in  the  mon- 
astery of  St.  Gall  that  Romeias  the  watchman, 
without  any  reason,  started  up  from  his  couch  and 
fiercely  blew  his  horn ;  so  that  the  dogs  in  the 
courtyard  barked  loudly,  and  every  one  awoke  and 
came  running  out.  Yet  there  was  no  one  asking 
admittance.  The  abbot  concluded  that  it  was  the 
doing  of  evil  spirits,  but  at  the  same  time  ordered 
Romeias's  evening  drink  to  be  reduced  to  one  half 
for  six  days,  —  a  regulation  which  was  based,  how- 
ever, on  a  very  erroneous  supposition. 


VERGILIUS  ON   THE   HOHENTWIEL    1 19 


CHAPTER   VII. 

VERGILIUS    ON    THE   HOHENTWIEL. 

After  one  has  accomplished  a  removal  to  a  new 
residence,  it  is  very  pleasant  and  fascinating  work, 
to  make  one's  self  comfortable. 

It  i.s  by  no  means  a  matter  of  indifference  in 
what  place  one  lives  and  what  one's  surroundings 
are.  He  whose  windows  look  out  on  a  highway, 
where  carts  are  constantly  passing,  and  where  they 
are  pounding  stone,  is  certainly  oftener  visited  by 
gray,  dusty  thoughts,  than  by  gay,  many-colored 
fancies. 

With  regard  to  situation,  Ekkehard  might  well  be 
contented;  for  the  ducal  castle  on  the  Twiel  was 
airy  and  high,  and  lonely  enough  ;  but  still  he  was 
not  quite  satisfied  when,  on  the  day  after  his  arrival, 
Frau  Hadwig  showed  him  his  domicile. 

It  was  a  great  spacious  chamber,  with  arched 
windows  supported  on  pillars,  and  was  entered  from 
the  same  passage  which  led  to  the  duchess's  hall 
and  chambers.  The  impressions  which  a  man 
takes  with  him  from  his  lonely  cloister-cell  are  not 
to  be  shaken  off  in  a  single  night ;  and  Ekkehard 
reflected  how  he  might  often  be  disturbed  in  his 
meditations   if   the    tread    of    armor-clad    men   and 


1 20  EKKEHARD 

the  jingling  of  spurs,  or  the  softer  footsteps  of 
serving-maids  were  to  pass  his  door,  or  even  if  he 
heard  the  mistress  of  the  castle  on  her  way  up  and 
down.  So  without  hesitation  he  addressed  himself 
to  Frau  Hadwig,  saying,  "  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of 
you,  my  liege  Lady." 

"  Speak,"  said  she,  mildly. 

"  Could  you  not  give  me,  besides  this  room,  a 
more  distant  and  solitary  little  chamber,  —  even 
if  it  be  under  the  roof,  or  in  one  of  the  watch- 
towers.'*  Study,  as  well  as  the  exercise  of  prayer, 
requires  perfect  quiet ;  you  know  the  custom  of 
the  cloister ! " 

Then  a  slight  frown  overshadowed  Frau  H ad- 
wig's  brow  :  it  was  not  a  cloud,  —  only  a  cloudlet. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  be  often  alone  ?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  satirical  smile.  "  Why  did  you  not  stay  at 
St.  Gall?" 

Ekkehard  bowed  his  head  and  remained  silent. 

"Stay,"  cried  Frau  Hadwig;  "your  wish  shall  be 
fulfilled.  You  may  look  at  the  room  in  which  Vin- 
centius,  our  chaplain,  lived  till  his  blessed  end.  His 
taste  was  also  that  of  a  bird  of  prey,  and  he  pre- 
ferred being  the  highest  on  the  Hohentwiel  to  being 
the  most  comfortable.  Praxedis,  get  the  large  bunch 
of  keys  and  accompany  our  guest." 

Praxedis  obeyed.  The  late  chaplain's  chamber 
was  high  in  the  square  tower  of  the  castle.  Slowly 
she  ascended  the  dark  winding  staircase,  followed 
by  Ekkehard.  The  key  grated  harshly  in  the  long- 
unused  lock.  They  entered,  —  but  what  a  sight  was 
before  them  ! 


VERGILIUS  ON   THE  HOHENTWIEL    121 

When  a  learned  man  has  lived  in  a  place  it  takes 
some  time  to  destroy  all  traces  of  him.  This  was  a 
good-sized  square  room,  with  white-washed  walls, 
and  but  little  furniture ;  dust  and  cobwebs  covered 
everything.  On  the  oak  table  in  the  middle  stood 
a  small  pot,  once  filled  with  ink ;  but  it  had  long 
before  dried  up.  In  one  corner  stood  a  jug,  in  which 
wine  had  perhaps  once  sparkled.  On  a  rough  book- 
shelf were  some  books,  and  close  by,  some  open 
parchments ;  but  —  oh,  misery  !  —  a  storm  had 
broken  the  little  window,  so  that  Vincentius's  room, 
since  his  death,  had  been  open  to  sunshine  and  rain, 
to  insects  and  birds.  A  flock  of  pigeons,  taking 
undisputed  possession,  had  snugly  settled  down, 
among  all  the  book-wisdom.  They  had  built  their 
nests  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  Julius  Caesar's 
Gallic  Wars,  and  they  looked  with  surprise  at  the 
intruders. 

Opposite  the  door  a  verse  was  written  with  char- 
coal on  the  wall:  Martha,  Mar'tha,  thou  art  care- 
ful and  tJ'oiibled  about  many  tilings.  Ekkehard 
rea^  it,  and  asked  his  lovely  guide,  "  Was  that  the 
late  chaplain's  last  will .''  " 

Praxedis  laughed. 

"The  late  Herr  Vincentius  was  a  sociable  man," 
said  she.  " '  Comfort  is  better  than  a  talent  of 
silver, '  ii^  ^vas  what  he  often  said.  But  my  lady 
the  duchess  worried  him  a  good  deal,  and  pestered 
him  with  her  questions:  one  day  she  wanted  to 
know  about  the  stars ;  the  next,  about  herbs  and 
medicine ;  the  day  after,  about  the  Holy  Bible  and 
the   traditions   of   the    Church.      '  What   have   you 


122  EKKEHARD 

studied  for,  if  you  cannot  tell  me  anything?'  she 
would  say;  and  Herr  Vincentius  had  a  hard  time 
of  it." 

Praxedis  pointed  archly  to  her  forehead. 

"  '  In  the  middle  of  Asia,'  he  often  replied,  'there 
is  a  black  marble  stone ;  he  who  can  lift  it,  knows 
everything,  and  need  not  ask  any  more  questions.' 
Herr  Vincentius  was  from  Bavaria;  he  must  have 
written  the  quotation  from  Scripture  to  console 
himself." 

"  Does  the  duchess  ask  so  many  questions  ? " 
said  Ekkehard,  absently. 

"  That  you  will  soon  find  out  for  yourself,"  replied 
Praxedis." 

Ekkehard  examined  the  books  on  tha  shelves. 
*' I  am  sorry  for  the  pigeons;  they  will  have 
to  go." 

«  Why  ?  " 

"They  have  spoilt  the  whole  of  the  first  book 
of  the  Gallic  War;  and  the  Epistle  to  the  Corin- 
thians is  hopelessly  spotted.  .  ." 

"  Is  that  a  great  loss?  "  asked  Praxedis,  ^ 

"  A  very  great  loss  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  poor  naughty  doves ! ''  said  Praxedis, 
jestingly.  "  Come  to  me,  before  yonder  pious  man 
drives  you  out  among  the  hawks  and  falcons !  " 

And  she  called  the  birds,  which  had  unconcern- 
edly remained  in  their  niche ;  and  when  they  did 
not  come,  she  threw  a  ball  of  white  worsted  on  the 
table ;  then  the  male  dove  flew  over  to  it,  be- 
lieving that  a  new  dove  had  come.  With  stately 
steps  he  approached  the  white  ball,  greeting  it  with 


VERGIL  I  us   ON  THE  HOHENTWIEL     1 23 

a  gentle  cooing.     But  PraScedis  snatched  it  up,  and 
the  bird  flew  on  her  head. 

Then  she  began  to  sing  softly  a  Greek  melody. 
It  was  the  song  of  the  old  yet  ever  young  singer 
of  Teos  *  :  — 

O  whence,  thoit  pretty  cushat, 
Whetice,  whence  dost  thou  come  flying  ; 
And  whence  the  balmy  fragrance 
Breathes  from  thy  snowy  pinions 
And  drips  upon  the  meadow  -* 
Who  art  thou  ?  and  what  wilt  thou  ? 

Ekkehard  started  up  from  the  codex  in  which  he 
was  reading,  and  threw  an  almost  frightened  look 
on  the  young  girl.  If  his  eye  had  been  more 
accustomed  to  natural  grace  and  beauty,  it  would 
probably  have  rested  somewhat  longer  on  the  Greek 
maid.  The  dove  had  hopped  upon  her  hand,  and 
she  held  it  up  with  a  bended  arm.  Anakreon's  old 
countryman,  who  created  the  Venus  of  Knidos  out 
of  a  block  of  Parian  marble,  would  have  fixed  the 
picture  in  his  memory,  if  he  had  witnessed  it. 

"What  are  you  singing?"  asked  Ekkehard.  "  It 
sounds  like  a  foreign  language." 

"  Why  should  it  not  sound  so  ?  " 

"Greek?" 

"  And  why  should  I  not  sing  Greek,"  pertly  re- 
joined Praxedis. 

"  By  the  lyre  of  Homer,"  exclaimed  Ekkehard, 
full  of  surprise,  "  where  in  all  the  world  did  you 
learn  that ;  the  highest  aim  of  our  scholarship  ?  " 

*  TToQev  <^i\r)  Tre'Aeta 


124  EKKEHARD 

"  At  home,"  quietly  re^^ied  Praxedis ;  and  she  let 
the  dove  fly  back  to  his  place. 

Then  Ekkehard  looked  at  her  again  with  shy 
respect  and  admiration.  While  reading  Aristotle 
and  Plato  it  had  hardly  occurred  to  him  that  any 
living  persons  still  spoke  the  Greek  tongue.  The 
idea  now  dawned  upon  him  that  something  was 
here  embodied  before  him  which,  in  spite  of  all  his 
spiritual  and  worldly  wisdom,  was  beyond  his  reach 
and  understanding.  .  .  . 

"  I  thought  I  had  come  as  a  teacher  to  the 
Hohentwiel,"  said  he,  in  a  melancholy  tone,  "  and  I 
find  my  master  here.  Would  you  not  now  and  then 
deign  to  bestow  a  grain  of  your  mother-tongue  on 
me  .''  " 

"  On  condition  that  you  will  not  drive  the  doves 
away  from  the  room,"  replied  Praxedis.  "  You  can 
easily  have  a  grating  put  up  before  the  niche,  so 
that  they  will  not  fly  about  your  head." 

"  For  the  sake  of  pure  Greek,"  Ekkehard  was 
beginning  to  say,  but  the  door  of  the  narrow  her- 
mitage was  flung  open,  and  Frau  Hadwig's  sharp 
voice  was  heard  :  — 

"What  is  the  talk  here  about  doves  and  pure 
Greek?  Does  it  take  so  much  time  to  look  at 
these  four  walls  1  Well,  Herr  Ekkehard,  does  the 
den  suit  you  ?  " 

He  bowed  in  the  affirmative. 

"Then  it  shall  be  cleaned  and  put  in  order," 
continued  Frau  Hadwig.  "  Come,  Praxedis,  bestir 
yourself,  and,  to  begin  with,  drive  out  these 
doves !  " 


VERGILIUS   ON  THE   HOHEN TWIRL     1 25 

Ekkehard  ventured  to  put  in  a  word  on  their 
behalf. 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  duchess ;  "  3'pu  desire  to  be 
alone,  and  yet  to  keep  doves  !  Shall  we  not  also 
hang  a  lute  on  the  wall,  and  strew  rose-leaves  in 
your  wine?  Well,  we  will  not  drive  them  out;  but 
this  evening,  roasted,  they  shall  adorn  our  table." 

Praxedis  appeared  as  if  she  heard  nothing  of 
all  this. 

"  What  was  that  about  pure  Greek  ?  "  inquired 
the  duchess. 

Ekkehard  ingenuously  told  her  the  favor  which 
he  had  asked  of  Praxedis.  Then  the  frown  re- 
turned to  Frau  Hadwig's  forehead. 
.  "  If  you  are  so  very  anxious  to  learn,"  said  she, 
"you  may  ask  me  ;  for  I  also  speak  that  language." 
Ekkehard  made  no  objection.  There  was  apt  to 
be  in  her  speech  a  certain  sharpness  which  cut  short 
all  replies. 

The  duchess  was  strict  and  punctual  in  every- 
thing. Almost  immediately  after  Ekkehard's  arri- 
val she  laid  out  a  plan  in  accordance  with  which 
she  was  to  proceed  in  learning  the  Latin  language, 
and  it  was  settled  that  they  should  devote  one  hour 
each  day  to  the  grammar,  and  another  to  the  read- 
ing of  Vergil.  Ekkehard  looked  forward  to  the 
readings  with  delighted  anticipation.  He  intended 
to  put  his  whole  mind  to  it,  and  to  summon  up  all 
his  erudition  and  knowledge,  in  order  to  make  the 
task  easy  to  the  duchess. 

"It  is  certainly  no  useless  work  which  the  old 
poets  accomplished,"    said  he.     "  How  tiresome   it 


126  EKKEHARD 

would  be  to  learn  a  language,  if  it  were  bequeathed 
to  us  in  a  dictionary,  like  corn  in  a  sack,  which  we 
should  first  have  to  grind  into  flour,  and  then  to 
make  into  bread.  .  .  Now  the  poet  puts  everything 
in  its  right  place ;  there  is  a  finely  elaborated  plan 
and  meaning,  and  the  rhythm  reminds  one  of  the 
lovely  melody  of  strings ;  what  otherwise  would 
prove  hard  and  tough  for  our  teeth,  we  can  now 
drink  in  like  virgin  honey,  and  it  tastes  sweet." 

Ekkehard  could  find  no  means  to  mitigate  the 
bitterness  of  the  grammar.  Every  day  he  wrote  a 
task  for  the  duchess  on  a  leaf  of  parchment;  she  was 
eager  to  learn,  and  when  the  sun  rose  over  the 
Bodensee,  and  cast  its  early  rays  on  the  Hohentwiel, 
she  would  be  already  standing  at  her  window,  learn- 
ing whatever  was  assigned  to  her,  —  silently  or  aloud 
as  the  case  might  be.  Once  her  monotonous  reciting 
of  a7no^  a?;ias,  amat,  ainamus^  etc.,  reached  even 
Ekkehard's  ear  in  his  chamber. 

Praxedis,  however,  was  heavily  afflicted.  Frau 
Hadwig,  to  heighten  her  own  zeal,  commanded  her 
always  to  learn  the  same  amount  of  grammar  that 
she  had  for  a  task,  and  it  was  a  severe  trial  to  her. 
The  duchess,  only  a  beginner  herself,  delighted  in 
correcting  her  handmaiden,  and  was  never  more 
pleased  than  when  Praxedis  took  a  noun  for  an 
adjective,  or  conjugated  an  irregular  verb  as  a 
regular  one. 

In  the  evening  the  duchess  came  over  to  Ekke- 
hard's  room.  There  everything  had  to  be  ready  for 
the  reading  of  Vergil.  Praxedis  accompanied  her, 
and  as  no  Latin  dictionary  was  to  be  found  among 


VERGIL  I  us  ON  THE  HOHENTWIEL     12/ 

the  books  which  Vincentius  had  left  behind,  she 
was  ordered  to  begin  to  make  one;  for  in  her  young 
days  she  had  learned  the  art  of  writing.  Frau  H  ad- 
wig  was  less  experienced  in  that. 

"  What  would  be  the  use  of  priests  and  monks," 
said  she,  "  if  every  one  knew  the  art  belonging  to 
their  profession.^  Let  blacksmiths  forge,  soldiers 
fight,  and  the  writers  write,  and  then  no  confusion 
will  arise." 

She  had,  however,  given  much  practice  to  writing 
her  name,  in  capital  letters,  artistically  entwined, 
so  that  she  could  affix  it  to  all  documents  to  which 
she  put  her  seal  as  sovereign  of  the  land. 

Praxedis  cut  up  a  roll  of  parchment  into  small 
leaves,  and  drew  two  lines  on  each,  so  as  to  make 
three  divisions.  After  each  lesson  she  wrote  down 
the  Latin  words  they  had  learned  in  one,  the  Ger- 
man in  the  next,  and  the  Greek  equivalent  in  the 
third  column.  This  was  done  by  the  duchess's 
desire,  in  order  to  prove  to  Ekkehard  that  without 
his  aid  they  had  already  acquired  some  laudable 
knowledge. 

Thus  begun  the  lessons.^^'^ 

Praxedis  had  left  the  door  from  Ekkehard's  room 
into  the  passage  wide  open.  He  rose  and  was 
about  to  shut  it;  but  the  duchess  prevented  him, 
saying,   "  Do  you  not  yet  know  the  world  t  " 

Ekkehard  could  not  understand  what  she  meant. 

He  now  began  to  read  to  them  the  first  book  of 
Vergil's  "epic.  yEneas  the  Trojan  rose  before  their 
eyes ;  how  Fate  had  tossed  him  about  for  seven 
years  a  wanderer  on  the  Tyrian  sea,  and  what  un- 


128  EKKEHARD 

speakable  pains  it  had  cost  him  to  become  the 
founder  of  the  Roman  people.  Then  came  Juno's 
anger,  and  how  she  went  to  entreat  Aeolus  to  do 
her  bidding,  and  promised  the  god  of  the  winds  the 
fairest  of  her  nymphs  if  he  would  destroy  the 
Trojan  ships.  —  Thunder-storm,  tempest,  shipwreck, 
the  shattering  of  the  vessels ;  —  the  turbulent  waves 
scatter  weapons  and  armor,  beams  and  timbers,  and 
Trojan  splendor  over  the  boundless  deep.  And  the 
roar  of  the  waves  reaches  Neptune  himself  down  in 
the  watery  depths ;  he  mounts  up  and  beholds  the 
dire  confusion.  With  insults  and  threats  he  drives 
home  the  winds  of  Aeolus  ;  like  a  mob  at  the  words 
of  a  man  of  mark,  the  rebellious  waters  are  calmed, 
and  the  remaining  ships  anchor  on  the  Lybian 
shores  .  .  . 

So  far  Ekkehard  had  read  and  translated.  His 
voice  was  full  and  resonant,  and  vibrating  with 
an  agreeable  sense  of  inward  understanding.  It 
was  getting  late ;  the  lamp  was  flickering,  when 
Frau  Hadwig  broke  off  the  lesson. 

"  How  does  my  gracious  mistress  like  the  tale 
of  the  heathen  poet  ?  "  asked  Ekkehard. 

"  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow,"  was  the  reply. 

She  certainly  might  have  told  him  then  and  there, 
for  the  impression  of  what  she  had  heard  was 
already  firmly  fixed  in  her  mind;  but  she  refrained 
from  doing  so,  not  liking  to  hurt  his  feelings. 

"  May  you  have  pleasant  dreams,"  she  called  out 
as  he  was  departing. 

Ekkehard  went  up  to  Vincentius's  tower  room. 
It  had  been  put  into  perfect  order ;  all  traces  of  the 


VERGILIUS  ON   THE  HOHENTWIEL     1 29 

doves  had  been  removed.  He  wished  to  collect  his 
thoughts  for  silent  meditation,  as  had  been  his  wont 
at  the  monastery :  but  his  head  began  to  burn,  and 
before  his  soul  stood  the  lofty  figure  of  the  duchess; 
and  when  he  looked  straight  at  her,  then  Praxedis's 
black  eyes  also  gazed  at  him  from  over  her  mis- 
tress's shoulders.  —  What  was  to  be  the  outcome 
of  all  this  ? 

He  went  to  the  window  :  the  cool  autumn  air  blew 
in  upon  him.;  the  dark  infinite  sky  stretched  out 
over  the  silent  earth  ;  the  stars  were  brightly  twink- 
ling, —  near,  far  off,  brilliant,  pale.  Never  before  had 
the  starry  firmament  seemed  to  him  so  vast;  for,  on 
mountain-peaks,  the  proportions  of  things  change. 
Long  he  stood  thus,  until  an  uncanny  feeling  came 
over  him,  as  if  the  stars  were  attracting  him  upwards, 
as  if  he  must  rise  toward  them  as  on  wings  .  .  . 

He  closed  the  window,  crossed  himself,  and  went 
to  bed. 

On  the  next  day  Frau  Hadwig  came  with  Prax- 
edis  to  take  her  grammar  lesson.  She  had  learned 
many  words  and  declensions,  and  knew  her  task 
well;   but  she  seemed  absent-minded. 

"  Did  you  have  any  dreams  t  "  she  asked  her 
teacher,  when  the  lesson  was  over. 

"  No." 

"Nor  yesterday?" 

"No." 

"  'T  is  a  pity ;  for  it  is  said  that  there  is  an  omen  in 
what  we  dream  the  first  night  in  a  new  abode.  .  .  . 
Now  confess,"  she   continued  after  a  short  pause, 
"  are  you  not  a  very  dull  man  t  " 
VOL.  I.  — 9 


130  EKKEHARD 

"  I  ?"  asked  Ekkebard,  greatly  surprised. 

"  You  go  round  with  poets ;  why  did  you  not 
invent  some  graceful  dream,  and  tell  it  me  ?  Poetry 
is  so  like  a  dream,  —  it  would  have  given  me 
pleasure." 

"  If  such  is  your  command,"  said  Ekkehard,  "  I 
will  do  so  the  next  time  you  ask  me  ;  even  if  I  have 
dreamt  nothing." 

Such  things  were  entirely  new  and  strange  to 
Ekkehard. 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  your  opinion  of 
Vergil,"  said  he. 

"  Very  well,"  returned  Frau  Hadwig.  "  Listen  !  If 
I  had  been  a  queen  in  the  Roman  land,  I  do  not 
know  whether  I  should  not  have  burnt  the  poem, 
and  imposed  eternal  silence  on  the  man  .  .  ." 

Ekkehard  stared  at  her  in  perfect  amazement. 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  continued  she  ;  "  do  you 
know  why  ?  —  because  he  speaks  ill  of  the  gods  of 
his  country.  I  paid  close  attention  yesterday  while 
you  were  reciting  the  speeches  of  Juno.  The  spouse 
of  the  chief  of  all  the  gods,  and  yet  she  feels  a 
rankling  in  her  mind  because  a  Trojan  shepherd 
lad  does  not  declare  her  to  be  the  most  beautiful! 
And  she  is  powerless  to  call  up  a  tempest  at  her 
own  will  to  destroy  a  few  miserable  ships,  and  must 
first  bribe  Aeolus  by  the  offer  of  a  nymph  !  .  .  .  And 
Neptune  calls  himself  the  king  of  the  seas,  and 
yet  allows  strange  winds  to  cause  a  tempest  in  his 
realm,  and  only  notices  it  when  it  is  well-nigh 
over! — What  kind  of  beings  are  those?  —  As  a 
duchess   I  tell    you   I  should  not  like  to  wield  the 


VERGIL  I  us  ON   THE   HOHENTWIEL    131 

sceptre  in  a  country  whose  gods  are  thus  abased 
and  defamed  !" 

Ekkehard  was  embarrassed  to  find  an  answer. 
Whatever  antiquity  had  handed  down  in  the  form 
of  manuscripts  was  to  him  as  stable  and  immovable 
as  the  mountains ;  he  was  content  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  their  sense  and  significance,  —  and  now 
such  doubts  ! 

"  Pardon  me,  gracious  lady,"  he  said,  "  we  have 
not  read  very  far  as  yet ;  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the 
human  beings  of  the  ^^neid  will  find  greater  favor 
in  your  eyes.  Please  to  remember  that  at  the  time 
when  the  Emperor  Augustus  was  making  a  census 
of  his  subjects,  the  Light  of  the  world  began  to  dawn 
at  Bethlehem.  The  legend  says  that  a  ray  of  that 
Light  also  fell  on  Vergil,  and  so  the  old  gods  could 
no  longer  appear  to  him  so  great."  .  .  . 

Frau  Hadwig  had  spoken  according  to  her  first 
impression;  she  did  not  want  to  argue  with  her 
teacher. 

"  Praxedis,"  said  she  in  a  jesting  tone,  "  what  is 
thy  opinion .? " 

"  My  powers  of  thought  are  not  so  great,"  said 
the  Greek  girl.  "  Everything  seemed  to  me  so 
very  natural ;  and  that  made  me  like  it.  And  what 
pleased  me  most  was  that  Frau  Juno  gave  Aeolus 
to  one  of  her  nymphs  for  a  husband  ;  even  though 
he  was  somewhat  elderly,  still  he  was  the  king  of 
the  winds,  and  she  must  certainly  have  been  well 
provided  for."  ... 

"  Certainly,"  said  Frau  Hadwig,  and  made  a  sign 
to  her  to  be  silent.  "  Now  we  know  how  waiting- 
women  read  Ver£:il." 


132  EKKEHARD 

Ekkehard  was  provoked  into  greater  zeal  by  the 
duchess's  contradiction.  With  enthusiasm  he  read 
on  the  following  evening  how  the  pious  ^neas  goes 
out  to  investigate  the  Lybian  land,  and  how  he  is 
met  by  his  mother  Venus,  dressed  in  the  habit  and 
armor  of  a  Spartan  maiden,  the  light  bow  hang- 
ing over  her  shoulder,  and  her  fair  heaving  bosom 
scarcely  hidden  by  the  looped-up  garment ;  and  how 
she  directs  her  son's  steps  toward  the  Lybian  prin- 
cess. And  further  he  read  how  .^neas  recognizes 
his  divine  mother,  but  too  late,  —  he  calls  after  her 
in  vain;  but  she  wraps  him  up  in  a  mist,  so  that, 
unseen,  he  may  reach  the  new  town  w^iere  the 
Tyrian  queen  is  building  the  splendid  temple  in 
honor  of  Juno.  There  he  stands  and  gazes  at  the 
pictures  of  the  battles  before  Troy,  painted  by  the 
hand  of  the  artist;  and  his  soul  gloats  over  the 
empty  representation  of  past  warfare. 

Now  Dido,  the  mistress  of  the  land,  herself  ap- 
proaches, urging  on  the  workmen  and  performing 
her  sovereign's  duties : 

Then  at  the  shrine  of  the  goddess,  under  the  vattlt  of  the 
temple^ 

Hedged  by  armld  men,  to  the  lofty  throne  she  ascended  ; 

Making  laws  for  her  people  and  dealing  to  all  equal  justice. 

Lotting  to  each  his  share  of  the  labor  with  judgment  impar- 
tial. 

"  Read  that  over  again,"  said  the  duchess.  Ekke- 
hard repeated  it. 

"Is  it  written  so  in  the  book?  "'asked  she.  "I 
should  have  made  no   objection  if  you  had  put  in 


VERGILIUS  ON    THE   HOHENTWIEL     1 33 

these  lines  yourself.  I  almost  fancied  I  heard  a 
description  of  my  own  government.  .  .  With  your 
poet's  human  beings  I  am  well  satisfied." 

"It  must  have  been  much  easier  to  describe  them 
than  the  gods,"  said  Ekkehard.  "There  are  so 
many  men  in  this  world  .   .  ." 

She  made  him  a  sign  to  continue.  Then  he  read 
how  the  companions  of  ^neas  came  to  implore  the 
queen's  protection,  and  how  they  sung  their  lead- 
er's praise,  while  he,  hidden  by  the  cloud,  stood 
close  by. 

And  Dido  opens  her  town  to  the  helpless  ones ; 
and  the  wish  arises  in  her,  "  Would  that  ^neas  your 
king,  overwhelmed  by  the  same  tempest,  might  also 
be.  present !  "  so  that  the  hero  feels  a  great  longing 
to  break  through  the  cloud  .  .  . 

But  just  as  Ekkehard  had  begun  with, 

Scarce  had  he  spoken  these  words  when  the  veiling  cloitd  that 

hung  round  them 
Suddenly  burst,  .  .  . 

heavy  steps  were  heard  coming  along  the  cor- 
ridor. Herr  Spazzo  the  chamberlain  entered ;  he 
was  anxious  to  inspect  his  mistress's  new  studies. 
Most  likely  he  had  been  sitting  over  his  wine ;  for 
his  eyes  were  staring  vacantly,  and  the  salutation- 
speech  died  on  his  lips.  It  was  not  his  fault;  quite 
early  in  the  morning  he  had  felt  his  nose  burn  and 
itch,  and  that  is  an  unmistakable  prognostication 
of  a  tipsy  evening. 

"Stop  where  you  are!"  cried  the  duchess,  "and 
you,  Ekkehard,  continue  !  " 


134 


EKKEHARD 


He  read  on  earnestly,  impressively  :  — 

There  stood  j€.ncas  himself,   in  the  glory  of  light  brightly 

glowing, 
Like  a  god  in  stature  and  face,  for  his  parent  divine  had 
Breathed  on  him  beauty  of  flowing  locks  and  the  splendor  of 

manhood. 
And,  in  his  eyes,  the  glamour  of  radiant  joy  ever  smiling:  — 
Grace  stich  as  ivory  may  through  art  receive,  or  when  silver 
Or  the  Parian  marble  with  yellow  gold  is  encircled. 
Suddenly  then  addressing  the  queen,  while  all  gazed  in  wonder, 
Thus  he  spake  •  "  Behold  before  you  him  you  were  seeking 
I  am  ^neas  of  Troy,  escaped  from  the  Lybian  billov/sC 

Herr  Spazzo  stood  there  in  utter  confusion.  A 
repressed  smile  hovered  over  Praxedis's  lips. 

"  W^hen  you  next  honor  us  with  a  visit,"  cried  the 
duchess,  "  please  choose  a  more  suitable  passage 
for  your  entrance;  so  that  we  are  not  tempted  to 
imagine  you  to  be  '^^neas  of  Troy  escaped  from 
the  Lybian  billows  !  ' " 

Herr  Spazzo  withdrew.  "/Eneas  the  Trojan!  "  he 
muttered.  "  Has  another  Rhinelandish  adventurer 
forged  a  mythical  pedigree  for  himself  1  Troy ! 
veiling  cloudburst!  —  /Eneas  the  Trojan;  we  will 
break  a  lance  together  when  «\'e  two  meet !  Death 
and  damnation  !  " 


AUDIFAX  135 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AUDIFAX. 

At  that  time  there  was  also  living  on  the  Hohen- 
twiel  a  boy,  whose  name  was  Audifax.  He  was  the 
son  of  serfs ;  his  father  and  mother  were  dead,  so 
that  he  had  grown  up  wild,  and  the  people  did  not 
pay  much  heed  to  him.  He  belonged  to  the  castle 
like  the  house-leek  that  grew  on  the  roof,  or  the  ivy 
which  had  fastened  its  tendrils  to  the  walls.  But 
he  was  put  in  charge  of  the  goats.  He  faithfully 
drove  them  out  and  home  again,  and  was  shy  and 
silent.  He  had  a  pale  face,  and  short-cut  fair  hair, 
for  only  the  free-born  were  allowed  to  wear  long 
waving  locks. ^^^ 

In  the  spring,  when  trees  and  bushes  put  forth 
their  new  shoots,  Audifax  hked  to  sit  in  the  open 
air  and  make  himself  bagpipes  out  of  the  young 
sprouts,  and  blow  on  them.  It  was  a  monotonous, 
melancholy  music,  and  Frau  Hadwig  had  once,  for 
a  whole  forenoon,  stood  on  her  balcony  listening  to 
it,  perhaps  because  the  plaintive  melody  suited  her 
mood ;  and  when  Audifax  drove  home  his  goats 
that  evening  she  said  to  him,  "  Ask  a  favor  for 
thyself." 

Then  he  begged  for  a  little  bell  for  one  of  his  favor- 
ite goats,  called  Blackfoot.       Blackfoot  got  the  little 


136  EKKEHARD 

bell.  From  that  time  nothing  particular  had  hap- 
pened in  Audifax's  life.  But  he  was  growing  no- 
ticeably shyer,  and  the  last  spring  he  had  even  given 
up  blowing  on  his  pipe. 

It  was  now  a  sunny  day  late  in  the  autumn;  he 
had  been  driving  his  goats  down  the  rocky  moun- 
tain slope,  and  was  sitting  on  a  rock,  looking  out 
into  the  distance.  Behind  the  dark  fir-trees  gleamed 
the  Bodensee.  All  around,  the  trees  were  already 
wearing  their  autumnal  colors,  the  dry  red  leaves 
rustled  in  the  wind.  But  Audifax  sat  and  wept 
bitterly. 

At  that  time  a  little  girl  whose  name  was  Hadu- 
moth  tended  the  geese  and  ducks  belonging  to  the 
castle  poultry -yard.  She  was  the  daughter  of  an 
old  maid-servant,  and  had  never  seen  her  father. 
Hadumoth  was  a  good  little  girl,  with  red  cheeks 
and  blue  eyes,  and  she  wore  her  hair  in  two  tresses 
falling  down  her  back.  She  kept  her  geese  in 
excellent  order  and  training,  and  though  they  would 
often  stick  out  their  long  necks  and  quack  like 
foolish  women,  not  one  of  them  dared  to  disobey 
its  mistress ;  and  when  she  waved  her  stick,  they 
all  went  quietly  and  'decently  along,  and  refrained 
from  useless  noise.  They  often  fed  in  company 
with  Audifax's  goats  ;  for  Hadumoth  rather  liked  the 
short-haired  goat-herd,  and  often  sat  beside  him 
and  looked  up  with  him  at  the  blue  sky ;  and  the 
creatures  noticed  the  friendly  feelings  between  their 
guardians,  and  consequently  were  friendly  also. 

Now  Hadumoth  was  likewise  driving  her  geese 
down  the  hill,  and  when  she  heard  the  tinkling  of 


AUDI  FAX  137 

the  goat-bell,  she  looked  about  for  the  driver.  Then 
she  beheld  him  as  he  wept,  and  she  went  up  to  him, 
sat  down  by  his  side,  and  said  :  — 

"  Audifax,  why  dost  thou  weep  ?  " 

The  boy  made  no  answer.  Then  Hadumoth  put 
her  arm  round  his  shoulders,  drew  his  little  smooth 
head  toward  her,  and  said  sorrowfully :  — 

"  Audifax,  if  thou  weepest,  I  too  must  weep." 

Then  Audifax  tried  to  dry  his  tears.  "  Thou 
needest  not  weep,"  said  he,  "but  Imust.  There  is 
something  within  me  that  makes  me  weep." 

"  What  is  in  thee  that  makes  thee  weep  ?  "  she 
asked. 

Then  he  took  one  of  the  many  stones  which  had 
fallen  down  from  the  rocky  side  of  the  Hohentwiel 
and  threw  it  on  the  other  stones.  The  stone  was 
thin,  and  produced  a  ringing  sound. 

"  Didst  thou  hear  it  ?  " 

"  I  heard  it,"  replied  Hadumoth;  "  it  sounded  just 
as  usual." 

"  But  didst  thou  also  understand  the  sound  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Ah,  but  I  understand  it ;  and  therefore  I  must 
weep,"  said  Audifax.  "It  is  now  many  weeks  ago, 
I  was  sitting  over  yonder  on  a  rock  in  the  valley. 
There  it  first  came  to  me,  I  can  not  tell  thee  how, 
but  it  must  have  come  from  the  depths  below  ;  and 
since  then  I  feel  as  if  my  eyes  and  ears  were  quite 
changed,  and  in  my  hands  I  sometimes  see  gh'ttering 
sparks.  Whenever  I  walk  over  the  fields,  I  hear  it 
murmuring  under  my  feet,  as  if  some  hidden  spring 
were  there ;  and  when  I  stand  by  the   rocks,  I   see 


138  EKKEHARD 

through  them,  and  there  are  many  branching  veins 
running  in  them  ;  and  down  below  I  hear  a  ham- 
mering and  pounding,  and  that  must  be  the  dwarfs, 
of  which  my  grandfather  has  told  me  ;  and  some- 
times I  even  see  a  red  glowing  light  shining  through 
the  earth.  .  .  .  Hadumoth,  I  must  find  some  great 
treasure,  and  because  I  cannot  find  it,  therefore  I 
weep." 

Hadumoth  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  "Thou 
must  have  been  bewitched,"  said  she.  "Perhaps 
thou  hast  gone  to  sleep  after  sunset  on  the  ground 
in  the  open  air ;  and  thus  one  of  the  goblins  below 
has  got  power  over  thee.  .  .  .  Wait,  I  know  some- 
thing better  than  tears." 

She  ran  up  the  mountain  side,  and  was  quickly 
back  with  a  small  cup  full  of  water,  and  a  bit  of 
soap  which  Praxedis  had  once  given  her,  as  well 
as  some  straws.  Then  she  made  a  good  foam, 
took  one  of  the  straws,  and  gave  another  to  Audif  ax, 
and  said  :  — 

"  There  1  let  us  make  soap-bubbles,  as  we  used  to 
do.  Dost  thou  remember  how  we  sat  together  and 
tried  to  see  which  would  blow  the  largest,  and  how 
at  last  we  did  so  well  that  they  flew  down  the 
valley  big  and  beautifully  colored,  glittering  like 
the  rainbow  ?  And  how  we  almost  cried  when 
they  burst  ?  "  .  .  . 

Audif  ax,  without  saying  a  word,  took  the  straw ; 
fresh  as  a  dewdrop  the  soap-bubble  hung  at  the 
end  of  the  straw;  he  held  it  up  into  the  air;  the 
sun  shone  on  it. 

"  Dost   thou   recollect,     Audifax,"    continued   the 


AUDIFAX  139 

girl,  "  what  thou  saidst  to  me  once  when  we  had 
used  up  all  our  soap-water,  and  it  became  night, 
and  the  stars  all  came  out  in  the  sky  ?  — '  Those 
also  are  soap-bubbles,'  thou  saidst,  '  and  the  good 
God  is  sitting  on  a  high  mountain  blowing  them, 
and  he  can  do  it  better  than  we  can.' ''  .  .  . 

"  No,  I  do  not  remember  that,"    said  Audifax. 

He  hung  down  his  head,  and  again  the  tears 
began  to  flow.  "  What  must  I  do  to  find  the 
treasure  ?  "   sobbed  he. 

"  Be  sensible,"  said  Hadumoth.  "  What  wouldst 
thou  do  with  the  treasure,  if   thou  couldst  find  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  buy  my  liberty,"  said  he,  deliberately, 
"  and  thine  also ;  and  all  the  duchy  from  the  duchess, 
the  whole  mountain  and  all  that  is  on  it ;  and  I  should 
have  made  for  thee  a  golden  crown,  and  for  every 
goat  a  golden  bell,  and  for  myself  a  flute  made  of 
ebony  and  pure  gold."  .  .  . 

"  Of  pure  gold,"  laughed  Hadumoth.  "  Dost 
thou  know  what  gold  looks  like  ?  " 

Audifax  pointed  with  his  fingers  to  his  lips. 

"  Canst  thou  keep  a  secret  ?  " 

She  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Give  me  your  hand  on  it." 

She  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  show  you  how  gold  looks," 
said  the  boy ;  and  diving  into  his  breast-pocket,  he 
pulled  out  apiece,  —  round,  like  a  good-sized  coin,  but 
hollow  like  a  cup,  —  and  on  it  were  engraven  mystic, 
half-effaced  characters.  It  glistened  and  shone 
brightly  in  the  sun,  and  was  really  gold.  Hadumoth 
balanced  it  on  her  forefinger. 


140  EKKEHARD 

"  That  I  found  in  the  field,  far  over  yonder, 
after  the  thunder-storm,"  said  Audifax.  "  Whenever 
the  many-colored  rainbow  descends  to  us  in  an  arch, 
there  where  the  ends  approach  the  ground  come 
two  angels,  who  hold  out  a  golden  cup,  so  that  it 
may  not  stand  on  the  rough  and  rain-drenched 
ground;  and  when  it  vanishes  again,  they  leave 
their  cups  on  the  fields,  as  they  cannot  use  them 
twice,  for  fear  of  offending  the  rainbow.  .  .  ."  ^^^ 

Hadumoth  began  to  believe  that  her  companion 
was  really  destined  to  obtain  some  great  treasure. 
"  Audifax,"  said  she,  giving  him  back  his  rainbow 
cup,  "  all  this  will  not  help  thee.  He  who  wants  to 
find  a  treasure,  must  know  the  spell.  Down  in  the 
depth  below,  they  keep  a  good  watch  over  every- 
thing, and  don't  give  it  up,  unless  they  are  forced 
to  do  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  spell !  "  said  Audifax,  with  tearful 
eyes.     "  If  I  only  knew  that !  " 

"  Hast  thou  seen  the  holy  man  yet  ? "  asked  Hadu- 
moth. 

"No." 

"  For  some  daj's  there  has  been  in  the  castle  a 
holy  man,  who  knows  all  spells.  He  has  brought  a 
great  book  with  him,  out  of  which  he  reads  to  our 
duchess ;  in  it  is  written  everything :  how  one  con- 
quers all  the  spirits  in  air,  and  in  the  earth,  and  in 
the  water,  and  in  the  fire.  The  tall  Friderun  told 
the  men-servants  that  the  duchess  had  made  him 
come  that  her  power  might  be  strengthened  ;  and 
that  she  might  remain  young  and  beautiful,  and  live 
forever,  ..." 


AUDIFAX  141 

"  I  will  go  to  the  holy  man  then,"  said  Audifax. 

•'  They  will  beat  you,"  said  Hadumoth,  warningly. 

"  They  will  not  beat  me,"  replied  he.  "  I  know 
something  which  I  will  offer  him,  if  he  tells  me  the 
spell.  ..." 

It  had  become  evening.  The  two  children  arose 
from  their  stony  seat ;  goats  and  geese  were  col 
lected ;  and  then,  in  well  organized  ranks,  like  an 
army,  were  driven  up  the  hill,  and  into  their  respec- 
tive sheds. 

That  same  evening  Ekkehard  read  to  the  duchess 
the  end  of  the  first  book  of  the  ^neid,  which  Herr 
Spazzo  had  interrupted :  How  Sidonian  Dido, 
greatly  surprised  by  the  hero's  unexpected  appear- 
ance, invites  him  and  his  companions  into  her 
hospitable  halls  ;  —  and  Frau  Had  wig  gave  an  ap- 
proving nod  at  Dido's  words  :  — 

/,  by  a  si^nilnr  fate^  in  many  hard  labors  aboiinding, 
Wearily  tossed  about,  at  last  found  a  home  in  this  country. 
I  am  no  stranger  to  grief ;   I  have  learnt  to  help  the  afflicted. 

Then  yEneas  sends  Achates  back  to  the  ships, 
to  carry  the  good  news  to  Ascanius ;  for  on  him  was 
centred  all  of  his  father's  affectionate  care.  But 
Frau  Venus  conceives  new  cunning  in  her  bosom  ; 
she  wishes  to  enflame  Dido's  heart  with  love  for 
^neas.  So  she  removes  Ascanius  to  the  distant 
Idalian  groves  and  changes  the  god  of  love  into 
his  form ;  Cupid  divests  himself  of  his  wings,  and 
imitating  the  carriage  and  gait  of  Ascanius,  follows 
the  Trojans  and  appears  before  the  queen  in  her 
palace  at  Carthago. 


142  EKKEHARD 

.  .   .  She  with  her  soul  in  her  eyes,  gazing  at^  him, 
Cannot  gaze  her  fill:  to  her  breast  she  closely  enfolds  him^ 
Never  dreaming,  poor  Queen,  what  a  god  is  plotting  against 

her. 
At  his  Acidalian  parenfs  behest  he  effaces 
From  her  heart  little  by  little  her  husband  Sichcens, 
Striving  to  kindle  a  new  and  living  love  in  her  bosom, 
Waking  long-forgotten  feelings  and  slumbering  passion. 

"  Stop,"  said  Frau  Hadwig.  "  That  again  is  very 
weakly  conceived." 

"  Weakly  conceived  ?  "  asked  Ekkehard. 

"  What  need  is  there  of  the  god  Amor,"  she  said. 
"  Could  it  not  happen  without  using  cunning  and 
deceit,  and  without  his  interference,  that  the  memory 
of  her  first  husband  could  be  effaced  in  a  widow's 
heart?" 

"  If  the  god  himself  makes  the  mischief,"  said 
Ekkehard,  "  then  Frau  Dido's  behavior  is  excused, 
and,  so  to  speak,  justified  ;  —  that  must  have  been 
the  poet's  intention." 

Ekkehard  probably  thought  this  a  clever  remark, 
but  Frau  Hadwig  rose.  "  Oh,"  said  she,  pointedly, 
"  that  alters  the  matter  !  So  she  needed  an  excuse  ! 
—  really  that  idea  did  not  strike  me  !     Good  night." 

Proudly  she  stepped  through  the  chamber;  re- 
proachfully rustled  her  long  flowing  garments. 

"  Strange  !  "  thought  Ekkehard,  "  but  to  read  the 
dear  Vergil  with  women  has  its  difficulties."  Further 
his  reflections  did  not  go.  .  .  . 

The  following  day  as  he  was  crossing  the  court- 
yard Audifax  tlie  goat-herd  came  to  him,  caught 
up  the  hem  of  his  garment,  kissed  it,  and  then  looked 
into  his  face  with  beseeching  eyes. 


i 


AUDI  FAX  143 

"What  dosl^thou  want?"  asked  Ekkehard. 

"  I  should  Hke  to  know  the  spell,"  replied  Audifax, 
timidly. 

"  What  spell  ?  " 

"  To  lift  the  treasure  out  of  the  deeps." 

"  That  spell  I  also  should  like  to  know,"  said 
Ekkehard,  lau^hinj^. 

"  Oh,  you  have  it,  holy  man,"  cried  the  boy. 
"  Have  you  not  the  great  book,  out  of  which  you 
read  to  our  lady  in  the  evening  ?  " 

Ekkehard  looked  at  him  sharply.  He  became 
suspicious,  remembering  the  way  in  which  he  had 
been  brought  to  the  Hohentwiel.  "  Has  anybody 
prompted  thee  thus  to  speak  to  me  in  this  way  "i  " 
.   "Yes." 

"Who?" 

Then  Audifax  began  to  weep.  "Hadumoth,"  said 
he. 

Ekkehard  did  not  understand  him. 

"Who  is  Hadumoth?" 

"  The  goose-girl,"  said  the  boy,  sobbing. 

"  Thou  talkest  nonsense ;  go  away  !  .  .  ." 

But  Audifax  did  not  go. 

"  You  need  not  give  it  me  for  nothing,"  said  he.  "  I 
will  show  you  something  pretty.  There  must  be  many 
treasures  in  the  mountain.  I  know  one,  but  it  is 
not  the  right  one  ;  I  want  to  find  the  right  one  !  " 

Ekkehard's  attention  was  roused. 

"  Show  me  what  thou  knowest."  Audifax  pointed 
down  the  mountain.  Then  Ekkehard  went  with 
him  out  of  the  court-yard  down  the  steps  of  the 
castle  road.     At  the  back  of  the  mountain,  where  the 


144  EKKEHARD 

gaze  sweeps  up  toward  the  fir-clad  Hohenstoffeln  and 
Hohenhowen,  Audifax  left  the  road,  and  they  struck 
into  the  underbrush.  A  bare  wall  of  weather-beaten 
gray  rocks  rose  before  them  high  into  the  azure  sky. 

Audifax  pushed  aside  a  bush,  and  tearing  away 
the  moss,  showed  him  a  yellow  vein,  as  broad  as  a 
finger,  running  through  the  gray  volcanic  stone 
which  makes  the  substance  of  the  mountain.  The 
boy  broke  off  a  bit :  like  petrified  drops  the  loosened 
fragments  stuck  round,  bright  gold-colored,  in  the 
chinks  of  the  rock.  In  the  reddish  white  mass  were 
scattered  opaline  crystals. 

Ekkehard  closely  examined  the  detached  piece. 
He  did  not  know  what  it  was.  It  was  no  precious 
stone ;  learned  men  in  later  times  gave  it  the  name 
of  natrolite. 

"  Do  you  see  now  that  I  know  something  ?  "  said 
Audifax. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  it .'  "  inquired  Ekkehard. 

"  That  you  must  know  better  than  I.  You  can 
have  them  polished  and  adorn  your  great  books  with 
them.     Will  you  now  give  me  the  spell  ?  " 

Ekkehard  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  boy. 
"  Thou  oughtest  to  become  a  miner,"  said  he,  turnmg 
to  go. 

But  Audifax  held  him  by  his  garment. 

"  Now  you  must  teach  me  something  out  of  your 
book." 

»  What  ?  " 

"  The  most  powerful  charm." 

A  gleam  of  fun  came  into  Ekkehard's  serious 
eyes.  "  Come  with  me,"  said  he,  "  thou  shalt  have 
the  most  powerful  charm." 


AUDIFAX  145 

Exultingly  Audifax  went  with  him.  Then  Ekke- 
hard,  hiughing,  told  him  the  Une  from  Vergil :  — 

quid  non  mart  alia  pectora  cogis, 
auri  sacra  fames  ?  ^ 

With  stubborn  patience  Audifax  repeated  the  strange 
words  until  he  had  fixed  them  in  his  memory. 

"  Please  to  write  it  down,  that  I  may  wear  it  on 
me,"  he  entreated. 

Ekkehard,  wishing  to  complete  the  joke,  wrote  the 
words  for  him  on  a  thin  strip  of  parchment ;  the  boy 
hid  it  in  his  breast-pocket;  his  heart  beat  high; 
again  he  kissed  Ekkehard's  garment ;  then  he  darted 
off  with  such  leaps  as  the  wildest  of  his  goats  could 
not  rival. 

"  This  child  holds  Vergil  in  greater  honor  than  the 
duchess,"  said  Ekkehard  to  himself. 

At  noon-tide  Audifax  was  again  sitting  on  his 
boulder ;  but  now  no  tears  glistened  in  his  timid  eyes. 
For  the  first  time  for  many  days  he  had  taken  his 
old  bagpipe  with  him  ;  the  wind  carried  its  notes 
into  the  valley.  His  little  friend  Hadumoth  was 
glad  and  came  over. 

"  Shall  we  blow  soap-bubbles  again  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  shall  make  no  more  soap-bubbles,"  said  Audi- 
fax,  and  resumed  playing  on  his  pipe  ;  but  after  a 
while  he  stood  up,  looked  about  carefully,  and  drew 
Hadumoth  quite  close  10  him:  his  eyes  glittered 
strangely. 

"  I  have  been  to  see  the  holy  man,"  he  whispered 

i    Terrible  hunger  for  gold,  to  what  are  the  spirits  of  mortals 
Not  by  thy  power  compelled  ? 
VOL.  I.  —  10 


146  EKKEHARD 

in   her   ear.      "  To-night  we  will  get   the   treasure. 
Thou  must  go  with  me." 

Hadumoth  readily  promised. 

Supper  in  the  servants'  hall  was  finished  ;  they  all 
at  the  same  time  rose  from  their  benches  and 
arranged  themselves  in  a  long  file.  At  the  bottom 
stood  Audifax  and  Hadumoth ;  the  young  shepherdess 
used  to  say  the  prayer  before  these  rough  people. 
This  time  her  voice  trembled.  .  .  . 

Before  the  table  was  cleared,  two  shadows  glided 
out  by  the  castle  gate,  which  was  yet  unlocked.  It  was 
the  two  children  ;  Audifax  led  the  way.  "  The  night 
will  be  cold,"  he  had  said  to  his  companion,  and 
thrown  a  long-haired  goat's  skin  over  her. 

On  the  southern  side,  where  the  mountain  wall  is 
steepest,  there  was  an  old  rampart.  Here  Audifax 
stopped;  they  were  sheltered  against  the  autumn 
wind.  He  stretched  out  his  arm.  "  I  think  this  must 
be  the  place,"  said  he.  "  We  have  a  long  time  to 
wait  till  midnight." 

Hadumoth  said  nothing.  The  two  children  sat 
down  close  together.  The  moon  had  risen,  and  sent 
her  trembling  light  through  a  half-transparent  veil 
of  cloud.  In  the  castle  above  them  a  few  windows 
were  lighted  ;  they  were  again  reading  out  of  their 
Vergil.  •  .  .  Everything  around  on  the  mountain  was 
quiet  and  motionless ;  at  rare  intervals  the  hoarse 
shriek  of  an  owl  was  heard.  After  a  long  while  Had- 
umoth timidly  asked  :  — 

"  How  will  it  be,  Audifax  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  answer.  ''  Some  one  will 
come  and  bring  it ;  or  the  earth  will  open,  and  we 
must  descend ;  or  .  .  ." 


AUDI  FAX  147 

"  Hush,  I  am  frightened.'' 

There  was  another  long  interval,  during  which 
Hadumoth  had  leaned  her  head  on  Audifax's  bosom 
and  fallen  asleep.  But  the  boy  rubbed  the  sleep  out 
of  his  eyes  ;  at  last  he  awakened  his  companion. 

"  Hadumoth,"  said  he,  "the  night  is  long ;  tell  me 
a  story." 

"  An  ugly  story  has  come  into  my  mind,"  replied 
she.  "  Once  there  was  a  man  who  went  out  before 
sunrise  to  plough ;  and  he  ploughed  the  gold-dwarf 
out  of  the  furrow.  There  it  stood  grinning  at  him, 
and  said,  '  Take  me  with  you.  He  who  does  not 
seek  us  shall  have  us ;  but  if  any  one  seeks  us,  we 
strangle  him.  .  .  .'     Audifax,  I  am  frightened." 

"  Give  me  thy  hand,"  said  Audifax,  "  and  have 
courage." 

The  lights  at  the  castle  were  all  out.  The  hollow 
notes  of  the  watchman's  horn  from  the  tower  an- 
nounced midnight.  Then  Audifax  knelt  down,  and 
Hadumoth  knelt  beside  him.  He  had  taken  off  his 
wooden  shoe  from  his  right  foot,  so  that  his  bare 
toes  touched  the  dark  earth.  He  held  the  parchment 
strip  in  his  hand,  and  with  a  clear  firm  voice  he  pro- 
nounced the  words,  the  meaning  of  which  he  did  not 
understand, 

quid  non  mortalia  pectora  cogis^ 
auri  sacra  fames? 

He  remembered  them  well.  And  there  on  their  knees 
the  two  remained,  waiting  for  whatever  was  to  come. 
.  .  .  But  there  came  no  dwarf  and  no  giant,  and  the 
ground  did  not  open  either.  The  stars  over  their 
heads  glittered  cold  and  distant,  chill  blew  the  night 


148  EKKEHARD 

air.  .  .  .  Yet  no  one  has  a  right  to  laugh  at  a  faith 
so  strong  and  deep  as  that  of  the  two  children,  even 
if  it  cannot  remove  mountains  or  discover  treasures. 

Suddenly  a  strange  light  gleamed  on  the  vaulted 
sky.  A  shooting  star  fell,  marking  its  way  by  a 
phosphorescent  trail ;  many  others  followed. 

"It  is  coming  from  above,"  whispered  Audifax, 
and  he  convulsively  pressed  the  little  maiden  to  his 
side.  '''■  Aiiri  san'a  fames  .  .  ."  he  called  out  once 
more  into  the  night.  The  flashing  meteors  crossed 
one  another;  one  became  extihguished,  another 
became  extinguished,  again  everything  in  the  sky 
was  calm  as  before. 

Long  and  anxiously  Audifax  looked  around  ;  then 
he  rose  sorrowfully.  '"T  is  nothing,"  he  said  in 
faltering  tones;  "they  have  fallen  into  the  lake. 
They  grant  us  nothing.  We  shall  remain  poor 
herdsmen." 

"Hast  thou  said  the  words,  which  the  holy  man 
gave  thee,  quite  right  ?  " 

"  Exactly  as  he  taught  them  to  me." 

"  Then  he  did  not  tell  thee  the  right  spell.  Prob- 
ably he  wants  to  find  the  treasure  for  himself.  Per- 
haps he  has  put  a  net  in  the  place  where  the  stars 
fell   down.  ..." 

"No,  I  don't  believe  that,"  said  Audifax.  "His 
face  is  mild  and  good,  and  his  lips  are  not  deceitful." 

Hadumoth  was  thoughtful. 

"  Perhaps  he  does  not  know  the  right  words. '^ 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  he  has  not  the  right  God.  He  has  the 
new  God.    The  old  gods  were  great  and  strong  also." 


AUDIFAX  149 

Audifax  pressed  his  fingers  on  his  companion's  lips. 
"  Hold  your  tongue." 

"  I  am  no  longer  afraid,"  said  Hadumoth.  "  I 
know  some  one  else  who  knows  all  about  spells  and 
charms." 

"  Who  ? " 

Hadumoth  pointed  in  the  direction  where  a  steep 
dark  mountain  rose  abruptly  from  the  hemlock  forest. 
"  The  forest  woman,"  replied  she. 

"  The  forest  woman  1  "  repeated  Audifax,  aghast. 
"  She  who  made  the  great  thunder-storm,  when  hail- 
stones as  big  as  pigeon's  eggs  fell  into  the  fields ; 
and  who  ate  up  the  Zentgraf  von  Hilzingen,  so  that 
he  never  returned  home  ?  " 

"Just  for  that  reason.  We  will  ask  her.  We  are 
locked  out  of  the  castle  now,  and  the  night  is  cold." 

The  little  goose-girl  had  become  bold  and  ad- 
venturous ;  her  sympathy  with  Audifax  was  great, 
and  she  wanted  so  much  to  help  him  to  the  fulfilment 
of  his  wishes. 

"  Come  !  "  said  she,  eagerly.  "  If  thou  art  fright- 
ened in  the  wood,. then  blow  on  thy  pipe;  the  birds 
will  answer  thee,  it  will  soon  be  dawn." 

Audifax  raised  no  further  objection.  So  they 
walked  on  northward  through  the  thick  underbrush ;  it 
was  a  dark  pine  forest.  They  both  knew  the  path. 
Not  a  human  creature  was  stirring;  there  was  only 
an  old  fox  lying  in  ambush  ;  he  was  as  little  satisfied 
with  the  appearance  of  tlie  two  children  as  they  had 
been  with  the  swiftly  shooting  stars. 

Foxes  also  have  to  bear  their  disappointments  in 
life  ;  therefore  it  drew  in  its  brush  and  slunk  off. 


150  EKKEHARD 

The  two  children  had  gone  on  for  about  an  hour, 
when  they  reached  the  Hohenkrahen.  Hidden 
among  trees  stood  a  small  stone  hut ;  they  stopped. 

"  The  dog  will  bark,"  said  Hadumoth.  But  no 
dog  stirred.  They  approached  nearer  ;  the  door  was 
wide  open. 

"The  forest  woman  is  gone,"  they  said.  But  on 
the  xQ.xy  top  of  the  rocky  Hohenkrahen  a  small 
fire  was  faintly  burning  ;  dark  forms  were  gliding 
about  it.  Then  the  children  crept  up  the  path  lead- 
ing to  the  rock. 

The  first  gleam  of  the  coming  dawn  was  already 
showing  behind  the  mountains  beyond  the  Bodensee. 
Tfle  path  was  very  steep ;  it  was  a  projecting  crag 
where  the  fire  was  burning ;  a  mighty  oak-tree  spread 
out  its  dark  branches.  Audifax  and  Hadumoth  cow- 
ered down  behind  a  boulder  and  peeped  round  the 
corner.  Some  big  animal  had  been  killed.  A  head, 
apparently  that  of  a  horse,  was  nailed  to  the  stem  of 
the  oak ;  spits  were  standing  over  the  fire :  great 
bones  lay  scattered  about ;  there  was  blood  in 
a  vessel. 

Around  a  roughly  hewn  piece  of  rock  sat  a  number 
of  men.  On  it  stood  a  big  kettle  of  beer,!-*^  out  of 
which  they  filled  and  refilled  their  stone  mugs. 

At  the  foot  of  the  oak  crouched  a  woman.  She 
was  not  so  lovely  as  the  Allemannic  virgin  Bissula 
who  so  stirred  the  heart  of  the  Roman  statesman 
Ausonius,  in  spite  of  his  sixty  years,  that  he  went 
about  in  his  prefecture  making  idyls  and  sang  in  her 
praise  :  "  Her  eyes  are  as  blue  as  the  sky,  and  like 
gold  is  her  wavy  hair.     A  child  of  the  barbarians. 


AUDI  FAX  151 

and  yet  she  is  superior  to  all  the  dolls  of  Latium ; 
and  he  who  wants  to  paint  her  must  blend  the  rose 
with  the  lily."  12^  The  woman  on  the  Hohenkrahen 
was  old  and  haggard. 

The  men  were  looking  at  her;  from  moment  to 
moment  the  dawn  was  growing  brighter  in  the  east. 
The  mists  hanging  over  the  Bodensee  began  to 
stir;  now  the  sun  cast  his  first  ray  on  the  hills, 
burnishing  their  tops  with  gold.  Soon  the  fiery  ball 
itself  rose  on  the  horizon ;  then  the  woman  leaped  to 
her  feet;  the  men  stood  up  in  silence.  She  swung  a 
bunch  of  mistletoe  and  fir-tree  branches  over  her 
head,  and  then  dipping  it  into  the  vessel  of  blood 
three  times  sprinkled  it  toward  the  sun ;  three  times 
also  over  the  men  ;  then  she  poured  out  the  contents 
of  the  vessel  at  the  foot  of  the  oak. 

The  men  had  seized  their  mugs;  they  rubbed  them 
in  a  monotonous  way  three  times  on  the  smooth  sur- 
face of  the  rock,  so  that  a  strange  humming  noise 
was  produced,  lifted  them  together  toward  the  sun, 
and  then  drained  them  at  one  draught.  With  simul- 
taneous movement  they  put  them  down  again  so  that 
it  sounded  like  one  single  blow.  After  this  every  one 
put  on  his  mantle,  then  silently  they  went  down  hill. 122 

It  was  the  first  night  of  November. 

When  all  had  become  quiet  again  the  children 
stepped  out  of  their  hiding-place  intending  to  speak 
to  the  old  woman.  Audifax  had  taken  out  the  slip 
of  parchment,  —  but  the  hag  snatched  up  a  brand 
out  of  the  fire  and  approached  them  with  a  threaten- 
ing look. 

Then  the  children  fled  down  the  hill. 


I  5  2  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE   WOMAN    OF   THE   WOOD. 

AuDiFAX  and  Hadumoth  had  returned  to  the  castle  on 
the  Hohentwiel.  No  one  noticed  that  they  had  been 
out  all  night.  They  did  not  speak  of  their  adventures 
even  to  each  other  ;  Audifax  brooded  over  them. 

He  grew  negligent  looking  after  his  goats.  One 
of  his  flock  got  lost  in  the  hilly  ground  near  where 
the  Rhine  flows  out  of  the  Bodensee.  He  went  to 
look  for  it :  after  spending  a  whole  day,  he  returned 
with  the  truant. 

Hadumoth  was  delighted  at  his  success,  whereby 
her  comrade  was  saved  a  whipping.  By  and  by  the 
winter  came;  the  animals  remained  in  their  stalls. 
One  day  the  two  children  were  sitting  before  the  fire- 
place in  the  servants'  hall.     They  were  alone. 

"  Dost  thou  still  think  of  the  treasure  and  the 
spell  ?  "  asked  Hadumoth. 

Then  Audifax  drew  closer  to  her  mysteriously. 
"  The  holy  man  has  the  right  God  after  all,"  said 
he. 

"  Why  so  ? '  asked  Hadumoth.  He  ran  off  to  his 
chamber.  In  the  straw  of  his  mattress  he  had  hidden 
all  kinds  of  stones.  He  took  out  one  of  these  and 
brought  it  to  her. 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 53 

"  Look  at  this,"  he  said.  It  was  a  piece  of  smooth 
gray  slate,  containing  a  fossil  fish ;  the  delicate  out- 
lines of  the  head,  fins,  and  skeleton  were  clearly  im- 
printed in  the  slate, 

"  I  found  this  at  the  foot  of  the  Schiener  moun- 
tain,i23  when  I  went  to  look  for  the  goat.  It  must 
come  from  the  great  flood  which  Father  Vincentius 
once  preached  about  ;  and  the  Lord  of  Heaven  and 
Earth  sent  this  flood  over  the  world,  when  he  told 
Noah  to  build  the  big  ship.  The  woman  of  the 
wood  knows  nothing  about  it." 

Hadumoth  became  thoughtful.  "  Then  it  must  be 
her  fault  that  the  stars  did  not  fall  into  our  lap. 
We  will  go  and  complain  of  her  to  the  holy  man." 

So  they  went  to  Ekkehard  and  told  him  all  that 
they  had  beheld  that  night  on  the  Hohenkrahen. 
He  listened  indulgently  to  them.  In  the  evening  he 
told  the  duchess  about  it.     Frau  Hadwig  smiled. 

"  My  faithful  subjects  have  a  peculiar  taste,"  said 
she.  "  Everywhere  handsome  churches  have  been 
built  for  them  and  the  Gospel  is  preached  impres- 
sively. Fine  church  music,  great  festivals,  and  pro- 
cessions through  the  waving  corn-fields  and  meadows 
with  cross  and  flags,  —  and  yet  it  does  not  satisfy  them . 
So  they  must  needs  sit  on  their  mountain-tops  on  cold 
nights,  and  they  have  not  the  least  idea  what  they  are 
doing,  except  that  they  drink  beer.  We  know  so 
much.  What  do  you  think  of  the  matter,  pious 
Ekkehard .?  " 

"  It  is  superstition,"  replied  he,  "which  the  Evil 
One  is  always  sowing  in  apostate  hearts.  I  have 
read  in  our  books  about   the  doings  of  the  heathen, 


154  EKKEHARD 

how  they  perform  their  magical  rites  in  dark  woods, 
by  lonely  cross-ways  and  wells,  and  even  at  the 
graves  of  their  dead." 

"  They  are  no  longer  heathen,"  said  Frau  Hadwig. 
"  They  are  all  baptized  and  belong  to  some  parish- 
church.  But  some  of  the  old  traditions  still  live 
among  them  ;  and  though  these  have  lost  their 
meaning,  they  run  through  their  thoughts  and 
actions,  as  the  Rhine  does  in  winter,  flowing  noise- 
lessly on  under  the  icy  cover  of  the  Bodensee. 
What  would  you  do  with  them  ?  " 

"  Exterminate  them,"  exclaimed  Ekkehard.  "  He 
who  forsakes  his  Christian  faith  and  breaks  the  vows 
of  his  baptism  shall  be  eternally  damned." 

"  Not  so  fast,  my  young  zealot ! "  said  Frau 
Hadwig.  "  You  have  no  right  to  deprive  my  good 
Hegau  people  of  their  heads,  because  on  the  first 
night  of  November  they  prefer  sitting  on  the  cold 
top  of  the  Hohenkrahen  to  lying  on  their  straw 
mattresses.  For  all  that  they  do  their  duties  well 
enough,  and  fought  under  Charlemagne  against  the 
heathenish  Saxons,  as  if  every  one  of  them  had  been 
a  chosen  champion  of  the  Church." 

"With  the  Devil  there  can  be  no  peace,"  cried 
Ekkehard,  hotly.  "  Are  you  going  to  be  lukewarm 
in  your  faith,  noble  mistress?" 

"In  reigning  over  a  countrv,"  returned  she  in  a 
tone  of  gentle  banter,  "  one  learns  a  good  deal  that 
is  not  written  down  in  your  books.  Don't  you  know 
that  a  weak  man  is  often  more  easily  defeated  by  his 
own  weakness  than  by  the  sharpness  of  the  sword? 
When    Saint    Gallus    one    dav   visited   the   ruins  of 


THE    WOiMAN  OF   THE    WOOD         155 

Bregenz,  he  found  the  altar  of  St.  Aureha  de- 
stroyed, and  in  its  place  three  brass  idols  erected  ;  and 
the  men  sat  drinking  around  the  great  beer-kettle  ; 
which  is  never  omitted  when  our  Suabians  wish  to 
be  pious  in  the  old  fashion.  Saint  Gall  did  not  hurt 
a  single  man  of  them ;  but  he  broke  up  their  idols, 
threw  the  pieces  into  the  green  waves  of  the  lake, 
and  made  a  large  hole  in  their  beer-kettle,  and  he 
preached  the  Gospel  to  them  on  the  very  spot ;  no  fire 
fell  down  from  the  heavens  to  destroy  him,  and  so 
they  saw  that  their  religion  was  no  good,  and 
were  converted.124  'po  be  sensible  is  not  to  be 
lukewarm."  .  .   . 

"  That  was  when    .  .  ."  began  Ekkehard. 

But  Frau  Hadwig  interrupted  him,  saying:  — 

"  And  now  the  Church  has  been  established  from 
the  source  of  the  Rhine  to  the  North  Sea  ;  stronger 
than  the  castles  of  the  Romans,  a  chain  of  monas- 
teries, fortresses  of  the  Christian  faith,  runs  through 
the  land.  The  Gospel  has  penetrated  even  into  the 
recesses  of  the  Black  Forest ;  so  why  would  you  wage 
such  a  fierce  war  against  the  stragglers  of  the  olden 
times  ?  "  1-5 

"  Then  reward  them,"  said  Ekkehard,  bitterly. 

"  Reward  them  ?  "  quoth  the  duchess.  "  Between 
'  Either '  and  '  Or '  runs  many  a  road.  We  must  put 
a  stop  to  this  nocturnal  mischief.  Why?  No 
realm  can  allow  two  different  creeds  to  exist,  for 
that  leads  to  internal  warfare,  which  is  folly,  as  long 
as  there  are  plenty  of  outward  enemies.  The  laws 
of  the  land  have  forbidden  them  these  absurdities ; 
they  must   find  out  that   our   ordinances    and   pro- 


156  EKKEHARD 

hibitions  are  not  to  be  tampered  with  in  that 
way." 

Ekkehard  did  not  seem  to  be  satisfied  with  this 
reasoning ;  a  shadow  of  displeasure  still  darkened 
his  countenance. 

"  Tell  me,"  continued  the  duchess,  "  what  is  your 
opinion  of  witchcraft  in  general  ?  " 

"  Witchcraft,"  said  Ekkehard,  seriously,  taking  a 
deep  breath,  which  seemed  preliminary  to  a  longer 
speech  than  usual  —  "  witchcraft  is  a  damnable  art 
whereby  men  make  use  of  the  demons  that  inhabit 
and  control  the  elements.  Even  in  lifeless  things  living 
powers  are  concealed  ;  we  neither  hear  nor  see  them, 
but  often  careless  and  unguarded  minds  are  tempted 
to  wish  to  know  more  and  to  attain  greater  power 
than  is  granted  to  a  faithful  servant  of  God.  That 
is  the  old  sorcery  of  the  Serpent;  and  the  powers 
of  darkness ;  whoever  holds  communion  with  them, 
may  obtain  part  of  their  power,  but  he  reigns  over  the 
Devils  by  Beelzebub  himself,  and  comes  into  his  con- 
trol, when  his  time  is  at  an  end.  Therefore  witch- 
craft is  as  old  as  sin,  and  instead  of  there  being  the 
one  true  faith  in  the  world  and  the  one  wholesome 
way  of  service,  that  is  by  worship  of  the  triune  God, 
fortune-tellers  and  interpreters  of  dreams  and  ballad- 
mongers  and  expounders  of  riddles  still  wander  about ; 
and  the  adherents  of  such  arts  are  to  be  found  above 
all  among  the  daughters  of  Eve."  .  .  . 

"  You  are  getting  polite  !  "  exclaimed  Frau  Hadwig, 
interrupting  him. 

"  For  the  minds  of  women,"  continued  Ekkehard, 
"have   in   all  times  been  inquisitive  and   eager  to 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  I^y 

attain  forbidden  knowledge.  As  we  proceed  with 
our  reading  of  Vergil,  you  will  see  the  quintessence 
of  witchcraft  embodied  in  the  woman  Circe,  who 
spends  her  days  in  singing,  on  an  inaccessible  head- 
land. Chips  of  sweet-smelling  cedar-wood  light 
her  dark  chambers ;  with  industrious  shuttle  she 
weaves  beautiful  tapestry ;  but  outside  in  the  yard 
is  heard  the  melancholy  roaring  of  lions  and  wolves 
and  the  grunting  of  swine.  All  of  them  were  once 
men  whom  she  has  changed  into  brutes  by  her  magic 
philters.  .  .  ." 

"  You  talk  like  a  book,"  said  the  duchess,  pointedly. 
"  You  must  extend  your  study  of  witchcraft.  You 
shall  ride  over  to  the  Hohenkrahen  and  investigate 
whether  the  woman  of  the  wood  is  a  Circe  also.  You 
shall  act  in  our  name ;  we  are  curious  to  see  what 
your  wisdom  will  decree." 

"  I  know  not  how  to  reign  over  a  people  and  to 
settle  the  affairs  of  this  world,"  replied  he,  evasively. 

"  That  is  to  be  seen,"  said  Frau  Hadwig.  "  Rarely 
is  any  one  embarrassed  by  it,  least  of  all  a  son  of  the 
Church." 

Ekkehard  yielded.  The  commission  was  a  proof 
of  confidence.  The  next  morning  he  rode  over  to 
the  Hohenkrahen  on  horseback,  taking  Audifax  with 
him  to  show  him  the  way. 

"A  happy  journey,  Herr  Chancellor!"  called  out 
a  laughing  voice  behind  him.     It  was  Praxedis. 

They  soon  reached  the  old  hag's  dwelling.  Half- 
way up  the  steep  mountain  side  on  a  crag  stood  her 
stone  hut.  Mighty  oaks  and  beech-trees  spread  their 
boughs  over  it  and  hid  the  summit  of  the   Hohen- 


158  EKKEHARD 

krahen.  Three  tiers  of  stratified  phonolite  like  steps 
led  into  the  inside,  which  was  a  high  dark  chamber. 
On  the  floor  lay  heaps  of  dried  herbs  giving  out 
a  strong  fragrance.  Three  horses'  skulls  bleached 
white  grinned  down  fantastically  from  the  walls ;  ^^e 
near  them  hung  the  huge  antlers  of  a  stag.  In  the 
wooden  door-post  was  cut  a  complicated  double 
triangle.  A  tame  wood-pecker  was  hopping  about 
in  the  room,  and  a  raven  with  cropped  wings  was  its 
companion. 

The  inhabitant  of  this  abode  was  seated  beside 
the  flickering  fire  on  the  hearth,  sewing  some  gar- 
ment. By  her  side  stood  a  high,  roughly  hewn, 
weather-beaten  stone.  From  time  to  time  she  bent 
down  to  the  hearth  and  held  her  lean  hand  over  the 
coals.  The  cold  of  November  was  beginning  to  be 
felt  on  the  mountains  and  in  the  forest.  The  boughs 
of  an  old  beech-tree  bent  down  almost  into  the  win- 
dow. A  faint  breeze  stirred  them;  the  foliage  was 
yellow  and  sere  and  shivered  and  fell  off ;  some  of 
the  withered  leaves  were  chasing  one  another  around 
in  the  chamber. 

And  the  woman  of  the  wood  was  old  and  lonely, 
and  half  frozen. 

*'  There  you  are  lying  now,  despised  and  faded  and 
dead,"  she  said  to  the  leaves —  "  and  I  am  like  you." 

A  peculiar  expression  came  into  her  wrinkled 
face.  She  was  thinking  of  former  times,  when  she 
also  had  been  young  and  blooming  as  the  Spring, 
and  had  had  a  sweetheart  of  her  own.  But  his  fate 
had  driven  him  far  away  from  his  native  fir-woods. 
Plundering  Normans,  coming  up  the  Rhine,  robbing 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD         1 59 

and  burning  wherever  they  came,  had  carried  him 
off  as  a  prisoner,  with  many  others  of  the  arriere- 
ba7t ;  and  he  had  stayed  with  them  more  than  a  year, 
and  had  become  a  seaman,  and  in  the  sea  air  he  had 
grown  rougli  and  hard  also ;  and  when  they  gave 
him  his  Hberty  again,  he  brought  back  with  him  to 
his  Suabian  woods  the  longing  for  the  North  Sea. 
The  home  faces  were  no  longer  pleasant  to  his  eyes, 
those  of  the  monks  and  priests  least  of  all ;  and  as 
misfortune  would  have  it,  in  an  outburst  of  anger 
he  slew  an  itinerant  monk  who  had  upbraided  him; 
then  it  was  all  over  with  his  staying  at  home. 

The  old  woman's  thoughts  were  constantly  recur- 
ring that  day  to  the  hour  when  he  had  parted  from 
her  forever.  The  bailiffs  led  him  to  his  cottage  in 
the  Weiterdingen  forest,  and  fined  him  six  hundred 
shillings,  as  a  Wehrgeld  or  price  of  blood  for  the 
man  he  had  slain ;  and  in  heu  of  the  money  he  made 
an  assignment  to  them  of  his  cottage  and  land,  and 
he  swore,  with  twelve  witnesses,  that  he  owned  noth- 
ing else,  either  above  the  earth  or  under  the  earth. 

After  that  he  went  into  his  house,  took  a  handful 
of  soil,  stood  on  the  threshold,  and  with  his  left 
hand  threw  the  soil  over  his  shoulder  at  his  father's 
brother,  in  token  that  his  debt  was  thus  to  pass  on 
to  this  his  only  remaining  blood  relation.  Then 
when  this  was  done,  he  seized  his  staff,  and  dressed 
in  his  linen  shirt,  without  shoes  or  girdle,  he  jumped 
over  the  fence  of  his  acre,  for  so  the  law  of  the 
Chrene  Chriida  prescribed,^27  ^nd  thus  he  was  free 
to  go  out  into  the  wilderness,  and  became  an  outlaw 
and  a  fugitive.     So  he  went  back  to  Denmark  to  his 


l60  EKKEHARD 

Northmen,  and  never  returned  any  more.  Only  an 
uncertain  rumor  had  it  that  he  had  gone  over  with 
them  to  Iceland,  where  the  brave  vikings  who  refused 
to  bow  before  the  new  faith  and  new  rulers  had 
founded  for  themselves  an  arctic  home  of  refuge. 

This  had  happened  long,  long  before ;  but  it 
seemed  to  the  old  woman  as  if  she  still  saw  her 
Friduhelm  darting  away  into  the  shades  of  the 
forest.  Then  she  had  hung  up  a  garland  of  ver- 
vain at  the  little  chapel  of  Weiterdingen,  and  shed 
many  tears  over  it,  and  no  one  else  had  effaced  his 
image  from  her  heart.  The  cold,  dreary  November 
weather  reminded  her  of  an  old  Norman  song  which 
he  had  once  taught  her,  and  now  she  was  humming 
to  herself :  — 

The  evening  comes  and  chill  is  the  air. 
Hoar  frost  wreathes  the  firs  like  a  garland. 

O  Cross  atid  Book  and  monkish  prayer  — 
We  must  all  away  to  a  far  land! 

Our  home  grows  wan  and  gloomy  and  old  ; 

The  sacred  fountains  are  troubled ; 
Thou  God-frequented,  thou  beautiful  wold — 

The  blows  of  the  axe  are  redoubled  ! 

And  silent  and  vanquished  we  hasten  forth, 

Our  stars  in  misfortune  leave  us. 
O  Iceland,  thou  frozen  isle  of  the  North, 

Arise  from  the  dark  and  receive  us  ! 

Arise  and  receive  our  race  in  its  flight, 

In  the  sharp-beaked  galleys  confiding, 
The  ancient  gods  and  the  aticient  Right 

And  the  ancient  Norsemen  come  riding  ! 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  l6l 

Where  old  Hecla  glows  atid  hot  ashes  are  hurled, 
And  the  storm-waves  the  wild  coast  cumber, 

On  thee,  O  thoic  desolate  end  of  the  world. 

Through  the  long  winter  flights  will  we  slumber. 

Ekkebard  meanwhile  had  dismounted,  and  tied  his 
horse  to  a  fir-tree.  He  now  stepped  over  tlie  thresh- 
old ;  Audifax  shyly  followed  him. 

The  woman  of  the  wood  threw  the  garment  over 
the  stone,  folded  her  hands  on  her  lap,  and  looked 
fixedly  at  the  intruder  in  his  monk's  habit.  She  did 
not  rise. 

"  Praised  be  Jesus  Christ,"  said  Ekkehard  by  way 
of  greeting,  and  also  to  avert  any  possible  spell. 
Instinctively  he  drew  in  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand 
arid  shut  his  fingers  over  it.  He  was  afraid  of  the 
evil  eye^'^''  and  its  powers.  Audifax  had  told  him 
how  people  said  that  with  one  look  she  could  wither 
up  a  whole  meadow. 

She  did  not  return  his  greeting. 

"  What  good  work  are  you  doing  there  ? "  began 
Ekkehard. 

"  Mending  an  old  garment  that  is  getting  worn," 
was  the  answer. 

"  Do  you  also  gather  herbs  ?  " 

"So  I  do.  Are  you  an  herb-gatherer?  Here  are 
many  of  them.  Hawk-weed  and  snail-clover,  goats'- 
beard  and  mouse-ear,  as  well  as  dried  wood-ruff,  if 
you  want  any." 

"  I  am  no  herb-gatherer,"  said  Ekkehard.  "  What 
do  you  do  with  those  herbs?" 

"  Do  you  need  ask  what  herbs  are  good  for  ?  "  said 
the  old  woman.     "Anyone  of  you  knows  that  well 

VOL.  I.  —  II 


1 62  EKKEHARD 

enough.  Sick  people  and  sick  cattle  would  fare  ill, 
and  there  would  be  no  more  protection  against  the 
uglv  powers  of  darkness,  and  it  would  be  all  over 
with  stilling  of  lover's  longings  if  there  were  no 
herbs  to  be  had  !  " 

"  And  have  you  been  baptized  ?  "  continued  Ekke- 
hard,  impatiently. 

"Ay,  they  have  baptized  me,  likely  enough."  .  .  . 

"  And  if  you  have  been  baptized,"  he  said,  raising 
his  voice,  "  and  have  renounced  the  devil  with  all 
his  works  and  allurements,  what  is  the  meaning  of 
that?" 

He  pointed  with  his  stick  toward  the  horses'  skulls 
on  the  wall,  and  gave  a  violent  push  to  one,  causing 
it  to  fall  and  break  in  pieces ;  the  white  teeth  rolled 
about  on  the  ground. 

'•  A  horse's  skull  which  you  have  shivered  to 
pieces,"  replied  the  old  woman,  indifferently.  "  It 
was  a  young  animal,  as  you  may  see  by  the  teeth." 

"And  you  like  to  eat  horse-flesh?"  inquired 
Ekkehard. 

"  It  is  no  impure  animal,  and  we  are  not  forbidden 
to  eat  it." 

"  Woman  ! "  cried  Ekkehard,  and  he  came  close 
to  her,  "  thou  practisest  witchcraft  and  sorcery  !  " 

Then  the  old  woman  arose.  A  frown  contracted 
her  brow  and  her  eyes  glittered  strangely.  "  You 
wear  a  priest's  garment,"  she  said,  "  so  you  may  say 
this  to  me.  An  old  woman  has  no  protection  against 
you.  Otherwise  it  were  a  gross  insult  which  you 
have  flung  in  my  face,  and  the  laws  of  the  land  pun- 
ish those  that  use  such  words."  .  .  .1=^ 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 63 

During  this  conversation  Audifax  had  remained 
timidly  standing  at  the  door;  but  when  the  raven 
came  hopping  toward  him  he  was  afraid  and  ran  up 
to  Ekkehard.  Then  he  saw  the  stone  by  the  hearth ; 
the  fear  even  of  twenty  ravens  would  not  have  pre- 
vented him  from  examining  a  curious  stone.  He 
lifted  up  the  garment  which  was  spread  over  it; 
strange,  weather-beaten  figures  came  into  sight. 

Ekkehard  also  looked  at  it. 

It  was  a  Roman  altar.  It  might  have  been  erected 
on  those  heights  by  cohorts  who,  at  the  command  of 
their  emperor,  had  left  their  luxurious  Asiatic  camp 
for  the  inhospitable  shores  of  the  Bodensee.  A 
youth  in  a  flowing  mantle  and  wearing  a  Phrygian 
cap  was  kneeling  on  a  prostrate  bull, — the  Persian 
Sun-God  Mithras  in  whom  the  failing  faith  of  the 
Romans  found  new  hope  and  strength. 

No  inscription  was  visible.  Long  stood  Ekkehard 
examining  it;  for  with  the  exception  of  a  gold  coin 
of  Vespasian,  which  some  dependants  of  the  monas- 
tery had  once  found  in  the  moor  at  Rapperswyl,  and 
some  carved  stones  among  the  church  treasures,  his 
eye  had  never  before  beheld  any  ancient  sculpture ; 
but  from  the  shape  and  look  of  the  thing  he  suspected 
that  it  was  some  silent  witness  of  a  bygone  world. 

"  Whence  comes  the  stone  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  I  have  been  questioned  enough,"  said  the  old 
woman,  defiantly;  "find  an  answer  for  yourself." 

The  stone  might  have  answered  many  questions  if 
stones  had  tongues.  A  goodly  bit  of  history  clings 
to  such  weather-beaten  monuments.  What  do  they 
teach  ?     That  the  races  of  men  come  and  go  like  the 


1 64  EKKEHARD 

leaves  which  spring  produces  and  autumn  destroys, 
and  that  all  their  thoughts  and  actions  last  but  a 
short. span  of  time.  Then  come  others  who  talk  in 
other  tongues  and  create  other  forms.  What  was 
holy  is  despised ;  what  was  despised  becomes  holy. 
New  gods  mount  the  throne,  —  fortunate  if  their 
altars  are  not  erected  on  the  bodies  of  too  many 
victims.  .  .  . 

Ekkehard  saw  another  meaning  in  presence  of  the 
stone  in  the  Forest  woman's  hut. 

"You  worship  that  man  on  the  bull!"  he  cried 
vehemently. 

The  old  woman  seized  a  staff  that  stood  by  the 
fireplace,  took  a  knife  and  cut  two  notches  in  it. 

"  "Tis  the  second  insult  you  have  offered  me,"  she 
said  hoarsely.  "  What  have  we  to  do  with  the  stone 
image  ? " 

"  Then  speak !  How  comes  the  stone  in  your 
hut?" 

"  Because  we  were  sorry  for  it,"  replied  the  Forest 
woman.  "  You  who  wear  your  hair  close-shaven  can- 
not understand  that.  The  stone  stood  outside  on 
the  crag ;  it  was  a  consecrated  spot,  and  many  have 
knelt  there  in  olden  times.  But  in  these  days  nobody 
heeded  it.  The  people  of  the  forest  dried  their  crab- 
apples  or  split  their  kindlings  on  it,  just  as  It  suited 
them;  and  the  cruel  rain  has  been  washing  away  the 
figures.  '  I  am  sorry  for  the  stone,'  said  my  mother. 
'  It  was  once  something  holy ;  but  the  bones  of  those 
who  knew  and  worshipped  the  stone  and  the  man  on 
it  have  long  been  bleached  white,  —  and  the  man  in 
the  flowing  mantle  looks  as  if  he  were  freezing  with 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 65 

the  cold.'  So  we  took  it  up  and  placed  it  beside  the 
hearth ;  it  has  never  brought  us  any  harm  as  yet. 
We  know  how  those  old  Gods  feel;  for  ours  also  no 
longer  avail.     Let  the  old  stone  enjoy  its  rest." 

"  Your  Gods  ?  "  continued  Ekkehard  in  his  cate- 
chism.    "  Who  are  your  Gods .?  " 

"  That  you  must  know,"  said  the  old  woman. 
"  You  have  driven  them  away  and  banished  them 
into  the  lake.  In  the  depths  below,  everything  lies 
buried,  —  the  treasures  of  old  and  the  ancient  Gods  ! 
We  see  them  no  more,  and  we  only  know  the  places 
where  our  fathers  worshipped  them  before  the 
Franks  came  and  the  men  in  cowls.  But  when  the 
wind  shakes  the  tops  of  yonder  oak-tree,  comes 
something  like  voices  through  the  air;  it  is  their 
wailing.  And  on  consecrated  nights  there  is  a 
moaning  and  roaring  in  the  forest,  and  a  shining  of 
lights;  serpents  wind  round  the  tree-boles;  then  over 
the  mountains  there  flies  something  like  a  train  of 
despairing  spirits  that  have  come  to  look  at  their 
ancient  home.  .  .  ." 

Ekkehard  crossed  himself. 

"  I  tell  it  as  I  know  it,"  continued  the  old  woman. 
"  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  the  Saviour,  but  he  has 
come  as  a  stranger  into  the  land.  You  serve  him  in 
a  foreign  tongue  which  we  cannot  understand.  If 
he  had  grown  up  on  our  own  ground  and  soil, 
then  we  might  talk  to  him,  and  would  be  his  most 
faithful  servants,  and  life  would  be  easier  here  in 
Alemannia." 

"  Woman  !  "  cried  Ekkehard,  wrathfully,  "  we  will 
have  you  burned.  .  .  ." 


1 66  EKKEHARD 

"  If  it  is  written  in  your  books,"  was  the  answer, 
"  that  trees  grow  for  the  purpose  of  burning  old 
women,  I  have  lived  long  enough.  The  lightning 
lately  came  in  to  visit  the  woman  of  the  Forest," 
she  continued,  and  pointed  to  a  dark  streak  on  the 
wall,  — "  the  lightning  spared  the  woman  of  the 
Forest." 

She  cowered  down  before  the  hearth,  and  re- 
mained sitting  there  silent  and  motionless.  The 
glowing  coals  threw  a  strong  but  fitful  light  on  her 
wrinkled  face. 

"  'T  is  well,"  said  Ekkehard.  He  left  the  chamber. 
Audifax  was  glad  when  he  could  see  the  blue  sky 
again  over  his  head.  "  There  they  sat  together," 
said  he,  pointing  up  toward  the  mountain. 

"  I  will  go  and  look  at  it.  Go  thou  back  to  the 
Hohentwiel,  and  send  over  two  men  with  axes  and 
hatchets;  and  tell  Otfried,  the  deacon  of  Singen, 
to  come  and  bring  his  stole  and  mass-book  with 
him." 

Audifax  bounded  away.  Ekkehard  went  up  to 
the  top  of  the  Hohenkrahen. 

In  the  castle  on  the  Hohentwiel,  meanwhile,  the 
duchess  had  been  sitting  at  her  midday  meal.  She 
had  often  looked  about  as  if  something  were  missing. 
The  meal  was  soon  over.  When  Frau  Hadwig  was 
alone  with  Praxedis  she  began  :  — 

"  How  dost  thou  like  our  new  teacher,  Praxedis  ?  " 

The  Greek  maid  smiled. 

"  Speak ! "  said  the  duchess,  in  a  commanding 
tone. 


THE    WOMAN  OF  THE    WOOD  1 6/ 

"  I  have  seen  many  a  schoolmaster  before  this  at 
Constantinopolis,"  said  Praxedis,  evasively. 

Frau  Hadwig  threatened  her  with  her  finger:  "I 
shall  banish  thee  from  my  sight  if  thou  speakest 
so  disrespectfully.  What  hast  thou  to  say  against 
schoolmasters  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Praxedis ;  "  I  meant  no  offence. 
But  when  I  see  such  a  bookman,  —  how  solemn  he  is, 
and  what  pains  he  takes  to  dig  out  of  his  manu- 
scripts some  meaning  which  we  have  already  nearly 
guessed,  and  how  he  is  bound  up  in  his  parchments, 
and  how  he  has  eyes  for  letters  and  scarcely  glances 
at  the  men  around  him, — then  I  always  feel  tempted 
to-  laugh.  When  I  am  in  doubt  whether  pity  is  out 
of  place,  I  laugh.  He  does  not  require  pity;  he 
knows  so  much  more  than  I  do." 

"A  teacher  must  be  solemn,"  said  the  duchess. 
"  It  belongs  to  him  as  the  snow  does  to  our  Alps." 

"  Solemn  ?  Ah,  well !  in  this  land,  where  the  snow 
covers  the  mountain-peaks,  everything  must  be  sol- 
emn," resumed  the  Greek  maid.  "  If  I  were  only  as 
learned  as  Herr  Ekkehard,  so  as  to  tell  you  what 
I  mean !  I  mean,  one  might  learn  many  things 
with  enjoyment  also,  sportively,  without  the  sweat- 
drops  of  hard  labor  on  one's  brow.  Whatever  is 
beautiful  ought  to  please  and  be  true  at  the  same 
time.  I  mean,  knowledge  is  like  honey,  which  can 
be  got  at  in  different  ways.  The  butterfly  hovers 
over  the  flowers  and  finds  it ;  but  such  a  learned 
German  seems  to  me  like  a  bear  who  clumsily  puts 
his  paws  into  a  bee-hive  and  then  licks  them.  I  for 
my  part  don't  admire  bears." 


1 68  EKKEHARD 

"  Thou  art  a  frivolous-minded  maiden,"  said  Frau 
Hadwig,  "and  not  fond  of  learning.  But  how  does 
Ekkehard  please  thee  otherwise, —  I  mean  is  he 
handsome  ?  "' 

Praxedis  looked  up  at  her  mistress.  "  I  have 
never  yet  looked  at  a  monk  to  see  whether  he  were 
handsome." 

"  Why  not  .^  " 

"  Because  I  have  considered  it  unnecessar}-." 

"  Thou  givest  queer  answers  to-day,"  said  Frau 
Hadw^ig,  getting  up  from  her  seat.  She  stepped  to 
the  window  and  looked  out  northwards.  Beyond  the 
dark  fir-trees  rose  the  heavy  mass  of  the  steep,  rocky 
Hohenkriihen. 

"  The  goat-boy  has  just  been  here,  and  has  told 
some  of  the  men  to  go  over,"  said  Praxedis. 

'•  The  afternoon  is  mild  and  sunny,"'  observed  the 
duchess.  "  Have  the  horses  saddled,  and  we  will 
ride  over  and  see  what  they  are  doing.  Ah  !  I  for- 
got that  when  we  returned  from  St.  Gallus  thou 
didst  complain  of  the  fatigue  of  riding.  So  I  will 
go  there  alone.  .  .  ." 

Ekkehard  had  insf)ected  the  scene  of  the  nightly 
revel  on  the  Hohenkrahen.  Few  traces  remained. 
The  earth  around  the  oak-tree  bore  damp,  red  stains. 
Coals  and  ashes  showed  where  the  fire  had  been. 

With  astonishment  he  beheld  here  and  there, 
hanging  hidden  in  the  branches  of  the  oak,  small 
wax  effigies  of  human  limbs, — feet  and  hands,  as 
well  as  images  of  horses  and  cows,  —  offerings  for 
the  recovery  of  sick  men  and  beasts,  which  the  super- 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 69 

stitious  peasantry  at  that  time  preferred  to  hang  up 
on  the  consecrated  tree  rather  than  to  place  them  in 
the  church  in  the  valley. 

Two  men  with  cutting  implements  now  came  up. 

"  We  have  been  ordered  to  come  here,"  they  said. 

"  From  the  Hohentwiel  ?  "  asked  Ekkehard. 

"  We  work  for  the  duchess ;  but  we  live  yonder 
on  the  Hohenhowen,  where  you  can  see  the  smoke 
rise  from  the  charcoal-pile." 

"Good!"  said  Ekkehard.  "You  are  to  cut  down 
this  oak  for  me." 

The  men  looked  at  him  in  embarrassment. 

"  Begin  at  once  and  make  haste  ;  the  tree  must  be 
felled  before  nightfall." 

Then  the  two  men  walked  up  to  the  oak.  With 
gaping  mouths  they  stood  before  the  magnificent 
tree.     One  of  them  let  his  axe  fall. 

"Don't  you  know  the  spot,  Chomuli?"  quoth  he 
to  his  companion. 

"  How  should  I  know  it,  Woveli  ?  " 

The  woodcutter  pointed  toward  the  east,  and  lift- 
ing his  right  hand  to  his  mouth,  imitated  the  act  of 
drinking. 

"On  this  account,  Chomuli." 

Then  the  other  looked  down  where  Ekkehard  was 
standing,  and  winked  one  eye. 

"  We  know  nothing,  Woveli." 

"  But  he  will  know,  Chomuli,"  said  the  first 
speaker. 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  was  the  reply. 

"It  is  a  sin  and  a  shame,"  continued  his  com- 
panion.     "  This  oak  has  been  growing  here  for  two 


170  EKKEHARD 

hundred  years,  and  has  witnessed  many  a  bright  fire 
each  May  and  Autumn.  I  can't  bring  myself  to  do 
it,  Chomuli." 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,"  said  the  other,  consolingly,  and 
he  made  the  first  stroke.  "  We  've  got  to  do  it.  The 
more  readily  we  hew  away  at  the  tree,  the  less  he 
yonder  in  the  cowl  will  believe  that  we  have  sat 
under  its  branches  in  nightly  worship.  And  the  shil- 
ling fine  !  .  .  .    A  man  must  be  cautious,  Woveli ! " 

That  remark  carried  enlightenment.  "  Yes,  a  man 
must  be  cautious,"  he  repeated ;  and  he  buried  his 
axe  in  the  tree  which  he  had  worshipped.  Ten  days 
before,  he  himself  had  hung  up  a  wax  effigy  in  order 
to  cure  his  brown  cow  of  fever. 

The  chips  flew  about,  and  the  axes  of  the  two 
woodcutters  resounded  in  muffled  monotonous 
strokes.  Keeping  regular  time,  their  blows  quickly 
followed  one  another. 

The  deacon  of  Singen  had  also  arrived  with  mass- 
book  and  stole.  Ekkehard  beckoned  to  him  to  go 
with  him  into  the  hut  of  the  Forest  woman.  She 
was  still  sitting  motionless  beside  her  hearth.  A 
sharp  gust  of  wind  sprang  lyD  just  as  they  were  en- 
tering the  opened  door  and  extinguished  her  fire. 

"  Forest  woman,"  called  out  Ekkehard,  imperi- 
ously, "put  your  house  in  order  and  pack  up  your 
things ;  you  must  go  !  " 

The  old  woman  seized  her  staff  and  cut  a  third 
notch.  "  Who  is  it  that  insults  me  for  the  third 
time,"  growled  she,  "  and  who  wishes  to  cast  me 
out  of  my  mother's  house  like  a  stray  dog?'* 

"In  the  name  of  the  duchess  of  Suabia,"  con- 


THE    WOMAN-  OF   THE    WOOD  171 

tinued  Ekkehard,  solemnly,  "  and  on  account  of  your 
practising  heathenish  superstitions  and  nightly  idola- 
tries, I  banish  you  herewith  from  house  and  home, 
and  the  province  and  the  land.  Your  chair  shall  be 
placed  before  the  door  of  your  hut,  and  you  shall 
wander  restlessly  about,  as  far  as  the  sky  is  blue, 
and  Christians  visit  the  church ;  as  far  as  the  falcon 
flies  on  a  day  of  Spring  when  the  wind  under  both 
his  wings  carries  him  along.  No  hospitable  door 
shall  be  opened  to  you,  no  fire  be  lighted  to  give 
you  warmth  ;  and  may  the  wells  deny  you  water,  until 
you  have  repented  of  your  wickedness,  and  made 
your  peace  with  the  triune  God,  the  judge  of  the 
living  and  dead." 

The  woman  of  the  wood  had  listened  to  him  with- 
out showing  great  emotion. 

"An  anointed  man  will  thrice  insult  thee  under 
thine  own  roof,"  muttered  she,  "  and  in  witness  of 
this  thou  shalt  cut  a  notch  in  thy  staff,  and  with  the 
same  staff  thou  shalt  go  out  toward  the  setting  sun, 
for  they  will  not  leave  thee  a  place  whereon  to  rest 
thy  head.     O  mother  !  my  mother  !  " 

She  then  collected  her  scanty  belongings  into  a 
bundle,  took  her  staff,  and  prepared  herself  to  go. 
The  deacon  of  Singen  was  touched.  "Ask  God's 
pardon  through  his  servants,  and  perform  some 
Christian  penance,"  he  said,  "so  that  you  may  find 
forgiveness." 

"  For  that  the  woman  of  the  Forest  is  too  old,"  ^^^ 
she  replied.  Then  she  called  her  woodpecker,  which 
fluttered  over  to  her  shoulder ;  the  frightened  raven 
went   hopping   behind    her;    the   door  was    already 


172  EKKEHARD 

open ;  one  last  look  on  the  walls  and  fireplace,  the 
herbs  and  horses'  skulls ;  then  she  struck  her  staff 
violently  on  the  threshold,  so  that  the  stone  flags 
resounded. 

"  Be  cursed,  ye  dogs !  "  the  two  priests  heard  her 
cry;  then  with  her  birds  she  plunged  into  the  woods 
and  disappeared. 

And  silent  and  vanquished  we  hasteti  forth, 

Our  stars  in  misfortitne  leave  tis, 
O  Iceland,  thoic  frozen  isle  of  the  North, 

Arise  froni  the  dark  and  receive  us  ! 

sounded  a  melancholy  song  from  among  the  leafless 
trees. 

But  Ekkehard  put  on  the  stole ;  and  the  deacon 
of  Singen  carrying  the  mass-book  before  him,  they 
proceeded  through  chamber  and  closet.  He  sancti- 
fied the  walls  by  the  sign  of  the  cross,  so  as  to 
banish  the  evil  spirits  forever  :  then  with  prayers, 
he  pronounced  the  mighty  exorcism  over  the  place. 

The  pious  work  had  lasted  long;  and  the  cold 
sweat-drops  stood  on  the  deacon's  brow  when  he 
took  off  Ekkehard's , stole;  he  had  never  before 
heard  such  impressive  words.  Now  the  tramping 
of  horses'  feet  was  heard. 

It  was  the  duchess,  accompanied  by  one  servant 
only.  Ekkehard  went  to  meet  her;  the  deacon  of 
Singen  started  on  his  homeward  way. 

"  You  were  gone  so  long  that  I  myself  had  to 
come  hither  to  see  how  you  had  settled  everything," 
graciously  called  out  the  duchess. 

The     two   wood-cutters   had    in   the    mean   while 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 73 

finished  their  work,  and  were  stealing  off  by  the 
back  of  the  hill.     They  stood  in  awe  of  the  duchess. 

Ekkehard  told  her  about  the  life  and  doings  of 
the  Forest  woman,  and  how  he  had  driven  her 
away. 

"You  are  severe,"  said  Frau  Had  wig. 

"  I  thought  I  was  mild,"  replied  Ekkehard. 

"  We  sanction  what  you  have  done,"  said  the 
duchess.  "  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  the 
deserted  hut  ?  "  She  cast  a  hasty  look  at  the  stone 
walls. 

"  The  power  of  the  evil  spirits  has  been  banished 
and  exorcised,"  said  Ekkehard.  "  I  mean  to  con- 
secrate it  as  a  chapel  to  St.  Hadwig." 

The  duchess  looked  at  him  with  a  well-pleased 
expression. 

"  How  did  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  It  just  occurred  to  me,  .  .  .  the  oak  I  have  had 
cut  down." 

"  We  will  examine  that  spot,"  said  she.  "  I  think 
that  we  shall  sanction  also  the  felling  of  the  oak." 

Accompanied  by  Ekkehard  she  climbed  the  steep 
path,  leading  up  to  the  top  of  the  Hohenkrahen. 

There  lay  the  oak  on  the  ground ;  its  mighty 
branches  fairly  blocked  the  place.  A  stony  plateau, 
but  a  few  paces  in  circumference,  crowned  the 
strangely  shaped  mountain.  They  were  standing 
on  the  top.  Beneath  their  feet  the  steep  wall  sank 
away  precipitously.  It  was  a  giddy  height;  there 
was  neither  stone  nor  tree  for  support,  the  two 
figures  stood  out  against  the  blue  sky,  the  monk  in 
his  dark  garment   and  the   duchess  wrapped  up  in 


174  EKKEHARD 

her  bright-colored  mantle.  Silently  they  stood  to- 
gether. A  splendid  view  opened  before  them.  In 
the  depths  below  stretched  the  plain,  through  the 
green  meadows  of  which  in  serpentine  course  wound 
the  little  river  Aach.  The  roofs  and  gables  of  the 
houses  far  down  in  the  valley  looked  like  tiny  dots 
on  a  map.  Over  opposite  darkly  rose  the  well-known 
peak  of  the  Hohentwiel  in  proud  pre-eminence  ;  blue 
flat  mountain-ridges  extended  like  walls  behind  the 
mighty  one,  forming  a  barrier  that  hides  the  Rhine 
in  its  escape  from  the    Bodensee. 

The  Untersee,  with  the  island  of  Reichenau,  lay 
glittering  in  the  foreground ;  and  in  the  far  dis- 
tance stood  out  in  faint  outline  gigantic  mountains, 
through  transparent  clouds.  They  became  clearer 
and  clearer ;  a  golden  glow  surrounded  them  like  a 
halo  of  glory.  The  sun  was  declining  toward  the 
west  .  .  .  with  soft  vapors  and  melting  lights  the 
landscape  swam.  .   .  . 

Frau  Hadwig  was  moved  ;  nature's  grander  beauty 
appealed  to  her  noble  heart.  But  the  emotions  lie 
very  close  to  one  another ;  an  impulse  of  tenderness 
came  into  her  heart.  From  the  snowy  Alpine  peaks 
her  eyes  turned  on  Ekkehard.  "He  is  going  to 
consecrate  a  chapel  to  St.  Hadwig,"  something 
whispered  within  her,  over  and  over  again. 

She  advanced  a  step,  as  if  she  were  afraid  of  be- 
coming giddy,  put  her  right  arm  on  Ekkehard's 
shoulder  and  leaned  heavily  on  him.  Close  her 
eyes  flamed  into  his. 

"What  is  my  friend  thinking  about?  "  said  she  in 
soft  accents. 


THE    WOMAN  OF   THE    WOOD  1 75 

Ekkehard  had  been  lost  in  thought.     He  started. 

"  I  have  never  before  stood  on  such  a  height," 
said  he,  "  and  I  was  reminded  of  the  passage  in 
Scripture  :  '  Again,  the  devil  taketh  him  up  into  an 
exceeding  high  mountain,  and  showeth  him  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them  ;  and 
saith  unto  him,  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee,  if 
thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me.  Then  saith 
Jesus  unto  him.  Get  thee  hence,  Satan !  for  it  is 
written.  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and 
him  only  shalt  thou  serve.'  " 

With  a  strange  look  the  duchess  stepped  back. 
•  The  fire  in  her  eyes  changed,  as  if  she  might  have 
pushed  the  monk  down  into  the  abyss. 

"  Ekkehard !  "  cried  she,  "  you  are  either  a  child  — 
or  a  fool !  " 

Then  she  turned,  and  with  hasty  steps  showing 
her  vexation  descended  the  path.  She  rode  back  to 
the  Hohentwiel,  at  a  furious  gallop.  Her  servant 
could  scarcely  follow  her. 

Ekkehard  knew  not  what  happened  to  him.  He 
passed  his  hand  over  his  eyes,  as  if  there  were  scales 
over  them. 

While  in  the  silent  night  he  was  sitting  in  his 
tower  on  the  Hohentwiel,  and  thinking  over  the 
events  of  the  day,  a  distant  gleam  of  fire  flashed  in 
the  sky.  He  looked  out.  From  the  fir-trees  on  the 
Hohenkrahen  arose  the  fiery  blaze. 

The  Forest  woman  had  been  paying  her  last 
visit  to  the  future  chapel  of  St.  Hadwig. 


176  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER    X. 

CHRISTMAS. 

The  evening  on  the  Hohenkrahen  rang  in  false 
tones  in  the  duchess's  mind  for  several  days.  Dis- 
cords are  not  easily  forgiven,  especially  by  one  who 
has  caused  them. 

For  this  reason  Frau  Hadwig  spent  some  days  in 
a  very  bad  humor  in  her  own  private  apartments. 
Grammar  and  Vergil  rested.  With  Praxedis  she 
took  up  the  old  jest  about  the  schoolmasters  at  Con- 
stantinople, and  seemed  to  appreciate  it  better  than 
before. 

Ekkehard  asked  whether  he  were  to  continue  the 
lessons. 

"  I  have  a  toothache,"  said  the  duchess. 

"  The  rough  autumnal  weather  must  be  the  cause 
of  it,"  he  said,  expressing  his  regret. 

He  asked  several  times  every  day  how  she  was. 
This  conciHated  the  duchess. 

"  How  comes  it,"  she  asked  once  of  Praxedis, 
*'  that  a  person  can  be  of  more  real  worth  than  he 
himself  knows  how  to  show  1 " 

"  From  a  lack  of  gracefulness,"  replied  the  Greek 
maid.  "In  other  countries  I  have  found  the  re- 
verse ;  but  here,  people  are  too  lazy  with  every  step, 
with  every  gesture,  with  every  word,  to  express  their 


CHRISTMAS  1 77 

real  self.  They  prefer  to  hide  it  in  their  thoughts, 
and  they  think  every  one  must  be  able  to  read  on 
their  foreheads  what  is  going  on  within." 

"  But  yet  we  are  generally  so  industrious,"  re- 
marked Frau  Hadwig,  complacently. 

"  The  buffaloes  likewise  work  the  live-long  day," 
Praxedis  had  almost  retorted  ;  but  for  once  she  con- 
tented herself  with  merely  thinking  it. 

Ekkehard  was  unembarrassed.  It  had  not  oc- 
curred to  him  that  he  had  given  the  duchess  an  un- 
suitable answer.  He  really  had  been  thinking  of 
that  Scripture  comparison,  and  failed  to  see  that  it 
was  not  the  right  thing  to  quote  Scripture  in  reply 
to  a  timid  expression  of  a  friendly  liking.  He  rever- 
enced the  duchess,  but  rather  as  the  embodied  idea 
of  high  rank  than  as  a  woman.  That  rank  demands 
reverence  had  never  struck  him  ;  still  less  that  even 
one  of  loftiest  position  is  often  perfectly  satisfied 
with  simple  affection.  He  noticed  that  Frau  Had- 
wig was  out  of  spirits  ;  but  he  contented  himself  by 
making  the  general  observation  that  the  intercourse 
with  a  duchess  was  more  difficult  than  that  with  his 
brethren  according  to  the  rules  of  St.  Benedict. 

Among  the  books  which  Vincentius  had  left 
behind  were  the  Epistles  of  the  Apostle  Paul, 
which  he  now  studied.  Herr  Spazzo  during  those 
days  put  on  a  still  haughtier  mien  than  usual  when 
he  passed  him.  Frau  Hadwig  soon  found  out  that  it 
was  better  to  return  to  the  old  order  of  things. 

"It  was  really  a  splendid  view  which  we  had  that 
evening  from  the  Hohenkrahen,  looking  over  to  the 
snow-clad  mountains,"  said  she  one  day  to  Ekkehard. 

VOL.   I.  —  12 


178  EKKEHARD 

"  But  do  you  know  our  weather-signs  on  the  Hohen- 
twiel  ?  Whenever  the  Alps  appear  very  distinct  and 
near,  the  weather  is  sure  to  change.  We  have  had 
some  bad  days  since  We  will  take  up  our  reading 
of  Vergil  again." 

Then  Ekkehard,  highly  pleased,  brought  his  heavy 
metal-bound  Vergilius,  and  they  resumed  their 
studies.  He  read  and  translated  to  the  ladies  the 
second  book  of  the  ^neid,  about  the  fall  of  lofty 
Troy,  the  wooden  horse  and  Sinon's  treachery  and 
the  fearful  end  of  Laocoon,  the  battle  in  the  night, 
Cassandra's  fate,  and  Priamus'  death,  and  -Eneas' 
flight  with  the  aged  Anchises. 

With  evident  sympathy  Frau  Hadwig  listened  to 
the  interesting  tale.  Only  she  was  not  quite  satisfied 
with  the  disappearance  of  ^Eneas'  spouse  Creiisa. 

"  That  he  need  not  have  told  Queen  Dido  at  such 
length,"  she  said;  "the  living  woman  surely  was  not 
overpleased  to  hear  that  he  had  run  so  long  after  the 
lost  one.     Lost  is  lost." 

Meantime  the  winter  was  swiftly  drawing  near. 
The  sky  grew  dreary  and  leaden-gray,  and  the  dis- 
tance remained  shrouded.  First  the  mountain-peaks 
round  about  put  on  their  white  snow-blankets ;  then 
field  and  valley  followed  their  example.  Young 
icicles  made  experiments  on  the  rafters  under  the 
roofs  to  see  if  they  might  quietly  hang  there  for 
some  months  to  come  ;  the  old  linden-tree  in  the 
courtyard  —  like  a  thrifty  householder  who  lets  the 
Hebrew  have  his  worn-out  garments  —  had  long 
since  shaken  down  its  faded  leaves  as  the  sport  of 


CHRISTMAS  179 

the  winds.  It  made  a  great  heap,  which  they  sent 
scurrying  in  all  directions.  To  the  branches  flew 
the  cawing  rooks,  coming  from  the  neighboring 
woods,  and  eagerly  watching  for  a  crumb  from  the 
castle  kitchen.  Once  there  came  among  the  sable 
brotherhood  one  the  flight  of  which  was  heavy,  as  its 
wings  were  damaged  ;  but  as  Ekkehard  went  across 
the' courtyard,  the  raven  flew  screeching  away.  It  had 
seen  the  monk's  habit  before,  and  did  not  like  it. 

Winter  nights  are  long  and  dark.  Now  and  then 
gleam  the  Northern  Lights  ;  but  far  brighter  than 
any  Northern  Lights  comes  to  the  hearts  of  men  the 
remembrance  of  that  night  when  angels  descended 
to  the  shepherds  in  the  fields  and  brought  them  the 
greeting,  — 

Glory  to  God  in  the  highest^  afid  on  earth  peace, 
good  will  towards  ?nen. 

On  the  Hohentwiel  they  were  preparing  for  the 
Christmas  festival  by  getting  ready  all  sorts  of  pres- 
ents. The  year  is  long,  and  numbers  many  days  in 
which  people  can  treat  one  another  in  a  friendly 
way ;  but  the  Germans  like  having  one  especial  day 
prescribed  for  that  pleasant  custom.  Therefore 
they  excel  other  nations  in  the  custom  of  making 
Christmas  presents.  The  good  heart  has  its  own 
peculiar  rights. 

During  this  time  Frau  Hadwig  had  almost  en- 
tirely laid  aside  the  grammar.  In  the  women's 
quarters  there  was  great  work  in  sewing  and  em- 
broidery. Balls  of  gold  thread  and  black  silk  lay 
scattered  about ;  and  when  Ekkehard  once  came  in 
unperceived,  Praxedis  rushed  up  in  front  of  him  and 


l80  EKKEHARD 

pushed  him  out  of  the  door,  while  Frau  Hadwig  hid 
some  needlework  in  a  basket. 

This  attracted  Ekkehard's  attention,  and  he 
reached  the  not  unreasonable  conclusion  that  they 
were  preparing  -  some  present  for  him.  For  that 
reason  it  seemed  to  him  appropriate  to  make  a  re- 
turn, and  to  employ  the  best  of  his  know-ledge  and 
artistic  abiUty  for  that  purpose.  He  sent  word  to 
his  friend  and  teacher,  Folkard,  at  St.  Gall,  to  for- 
ward to  him  parchment  and  colors  and  brushes  and 
precious  ink.  He  did  so.  Then  Ekkehard  sat  up 
many  an  hour  at  night  in  his  tower,  pondering  over 
a  Latin  poem,  which  he  would  dedicate  to  the 
duchess,  and  in  which  should  be  contained  some 
delicate  homage. 

But  this  was  not  such  an  easy  task!  Once  he 
began  at  the  creation  of  the  world,  intending  to 
bring  the  story  down  in  compendious  form  to  the  ac- 
cession of  Frau  Hadwig  as  duchess  of  Suabia  ;  but 
after  composing  some  hundred  hexameters  he  had 
not  yet  got  as  far  as  King  David ;  and  at  that  rate 
the  work  might  possibly  have  been  finished  by 
Christmas  three  years  later.  Another  time  he  tried 
to  number  up  all  the  women  who,  either  by  their 
power  or  beauty,  had  influenced  the  fate  of  nations, 
from  Queen  Semiramis  down,  not  forgetting  to  men- 
tion the  virgin  Amazons,  the  heroic  Judith,  and  the 
tuneful  Sappho;  but  to  his  regret  he  found  that 
by  the  time  his  pen  had  w^orked  its  way  to  the  duch- 
ess it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  say  anything  new 
in  her  praise.  So  he  went  about  downcast  and  much 
distressed. 


CHRISTMAS  l8l 

"  Have  you  swallowed  a  spider,  pearl  of  all  pro- 
fessors ? "  inquired  Praxedis  one  day,  on  meeting 
him  in  this  disturbed  condition. 

"  You  may  well  be  jesting,"  said  Ekkehard,  sadly  ; 
and  under  the  seal  of  secrecy  he  confided  his 
griefs  to  her.     Praxedis  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  By  the  thirty-six  thousand  volumes  in  the  library 
at  Constantinopolis  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Why,  you 
are  going  to  cut  down  whole  forests,  when  a  few 
flowers  for  a  bouquet  are  all  that 's  wanted.  Make 
it  simple,  unpedantic,  graceful,  —  such  as  your  be- 
loved Vergil  would  have  made  it !  " 

She  ran  away.  Ekkehard  set  to  work  again  in 
his  chamber.  "  Like  Vergil .? "  he  mused.  But  in 
the  whole  of  the  -^neid  there  was  no  example  of  a 
similar  case.  He  read  several  cantos.  Then  he 
sat  dreamily  thinking.  Suddenly  a  good  idea  struck 
him.  "  I  have  it !  "  he  cried.  "  The  beloved  poet 
himself  shall  do  homage  to  her  !  " 

He  then  wrote  a  poem,  as  if  Vergil  had  appeared 
to  him  in  the  solitude  of  his  tower  expressing  his 
delight  that  his  poetry  still  lived  again  in  Ger- 
man lands,  and  thanking  the  high-born  lady  for 
thus  befriending  him.  In  a  few  minutes  it  was 
ready. 

This  poem  Ekkehard  now  wished  to  transfer  to 
parchment,  adorned  by  beautiful  illustrations.  So 
he  composed  the  following  picture :  The  duchess, 
with  crown  and  sceptre,  sitting  on  a  high  throne; 
Vergil,  in  white  garments,  advances  toward  her,  and 
inclines  his  laurel-crowned  head.  By  the  right 
hand   he   leads  Ekkehard,   who  modestly  walks  by 


'JW? 


1 82  EKKEHARD 

his  side,  as  the  pupil  with  the  master,  likewise 
humbly    bowing   before   her. 

In  the  strict  manner  of  the  excellent  Folkard,  he 
first  drew  the  sketch.  He  remembered  a  picture  in 
a  psalm-book,  representing  the  young  David  before 
King  Abimelech.12^  He  arranged  the  figures  thus: 
he  drew  the  duchess  two  fingers'  breadth  taller 
than  Vergil,  and  the  Ekkehard  of  the  sketch  was,  on 
the  other  hand,  considerably  shorter  than  the  heathen 
poet.  Budding  Art,  lacking  other  means,  expresses 
rank  and  greatness  outwardly. 

With  the  figure  of  Vergil  he  succeeded  tolerably 
well ;  for  at  St.  Gall  they  had  always  used  ancient 
pictures  as  the  traditional  models  for  their  drawings, 
and  adopted  a  conventional  method  for  both  drapery 
and  outline.  Likewise  he  succeeded  with  his  own 
portrait,  —  at  least  so  far  as  to  draw  a  figure  in  a 
monk's  habit  and  evidently  wearing  a  tonsure.  But 
a  terrible  problem  for  him  was  the  correct  repre- 
sentation of  a  queenly  woman's  form ;  for  never,  as 
yet,  had  the  effigy  of  a  woman  —  not  even  that  of 
Mary  the  Mother  of  God  —  received  admittance 
amongst  the  monastery's  paintings.  David  and 
Abimelech,  familiar  as  they  were,  were  of  no  help  to 
him  here ;  for  the  regal  mantle  scarcely  came  down 
to  their  knees,  and  he  knew  not  how  to  manage  the 
draping  of  it  when  it  was  longer. 

So  anxiety  once  more  resumed  its  seat  on  his 
brow. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Praxedis  one  day- 

"  The  poem  is  finished,"  replied  Ekkehard.  "  Now 
something  else  is  wanting." 


CHRISTMAS  183 

"  And  what  may  that  be  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  in  what  way  women's  garments 
cling  to  their  tender  bodies,"  said  he,  in  a  melan- 
choly tone.  .  .  . 

"  What  you  say  is  really  very  shocking,  O  chosen 
vessel  of  virtue,"  chided  Praxedis.  Ekkehard,  how- 
ever, explained  his  difficulties  in  a  clearer  way.  Then 
the  Greek  girl  made  a  movement  with  her  hand,  as 
if  to  lift  his  eyelids. 

"  Open  your  eyes,"  she  said,  "  and  look  at  what  is 
alive  !  " 

The  advice  was  simple,  and  yet  novel  to  one  who 
had  acquired  all  his  art  in  his  solitary  cell.  Ekke- 
hard gave  his  counsellor  along  and  scrutinizing  look. 

"  It  avails  me  nothing,"  said  he.  "  You  do  not 
wear  a  regal  mantle." 

Then  the  Greek  girl  took  pity  on  the  doubt-beset 
artist.  "  Wait,"  said  she  ;  "  the  duchess  is  down  in 
the  garden :  I  will  put  on  her  ducal  mantle,  and  that 
will  help  you." 

She  glided  out,  and  after  a  few  minutes  reap- 
peared; the  heavy  purple  mantle,  with  its  golden 
embellishments,  hung  negligently  from  her  shoulders. 
With  measured  steps  she  walked  through  the  cham- 
ber. On  a  table  stood  a  brass  candlestick  :  she  took 
it  for  a  sceptre  ;  with  head  thrown  back,  she  came 
and  stood  before  the  monk. 

He  had  taken  out  his  pencil  and  a  piece  of  parch- 
ment. "  Turn  round  a  little  more  toward  the  light," 
said  he,  and  began  at  once  to  draw  eagerly. 

But  every  time,  when  he  looked  at  his  graceful 
model,  she   darted   a  sparkling  look   at   him.     His 


1 84  EKKEHARD 

movements  became  slower ;  Praxedis  looked  out  of 
the  window.  "  But,  as  our  rival  in  the  realm," 
began  she  with  an  artificially  raised  voice,  "is  al- 
ready leaving  the  courtyard,  and  threatens  to  take 
us  by  surprise,  we  command  you,  on  pain  of  losing 
your  head,  to  finish  your  drawing  within  the  next 
minute/' 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Ekkehard,  putting  down  his 
pencil. 

Praxedis  stepped  up  to  him,  and  bending  forwards, 
looked  at  what  he  had  done.  •'  What  shameful  trea- 
son !  "  she  exclaimed.      "  The  picture  has  no  head  !  " 

"  I  merely  wanted  the  drapery,"  said  Ekkehard. 

"  You  have  missed  your  fortune,"  continued  Prax- 
edis, in  her  former  jesting  tone.  "  If  you  had  faith- 
fully portrayed  the  features,  who  knows  whether,  in 
sign  of  our  princely  favor ,  we  should  not  have  made 
you  patriarch  of  Constantinople  !  " 

Steps  were  heard  outside.  Praxedis  quickly  tore 
off  the  mantel  from  her  shoulders,  so  that  it  dropped 
on  her  arm  ;  the  duchess  was  already  standing  before 
them. 

"  Are  you  learning  Greek  again  1 "  she  reproach- 
fully asked  of  Ekkehard. 

"  I  have  been  showing  him  the  precious  sardonyx 
in  the  clasp  of  my  mistress's  mantle ;  —  it  is  such  a 
beautifully  cut  head,"  said  Praxedis.  "  Herr  Ekke- 
hard has  much  taste  for  antiquities,  and  he  was 
greatly  pleased  with  the  intagHo."  .  .  . 

Even  Audifax  made  his  preparations  for  Christmas. 
His  hope  of  finding  treasures  had  greatly  dimin- 
ished.     He  now  clung  more  to  what  was  actually 


CHRISTMAS  185 

in  his  reach.  Often  at  night-time,  he  descended  into 
the  valley  \o  the  shores  of  the  river  Aach,  which  with 
sluggish  current  flowed  on  towards  the  lake.  Close 
to  the  rotten  foot-bridge  stood  a  hollow  willow-tree. 
There  Audifax  lay  in  ambush  many  an  hour,  his 
raised  stick  directed  toward  the  opening  in  the  tree. 
He  was  on  the  look-out  for  an  otter.  But  no  philos- 
opher trying  to  fathom  the  ultimate  cause  of  Being 
ever  found  his  task  so  difficult  as  did  the  shepherd- 
lad  with  his  otter-hunting ;  for  from  the  steep  bank 
there  were  many  subterranean  outlets  into  the  river, 
which  the  otter  knew  and  Audifax  did  not.  And 
often  when  Audifax,  trembhng  with  cold,  said, 
"  Now  it  must  come,"  he  would  hear  a  noise  far 
up  the  river ;  it  was  his  friend  the  otter  putting  its 
snout  out  of  the  water  to  take  a  good  breath  ;  and 
when  Audifax  softly  crept  up  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound,  the  otter  was  lying  on  its  back  and  floating 
comfortably  down  stream.   .  .  . 

In  the  kitchen  on  the  Hohentwiel  there  was  great 
bustle  and  activity,  —  as  in  the  tent  of  a  commander- 
in-chief  on  the  eve  of  a  battle.  Frau  Hadwig  her- 
self stood  among  the  serving-maidens.  She  did  not 
wear  her  ducal  mantle,  but  a  white  apron  ;  she  distrib- 
uted flour  and  honey,  and  superintended  the  baking 
of  the  gingerbread.  Praxedis  was  mixing  ginger, 
pepper,  and  cinnamon,  to  flavor  the  paste  with. 

"What  shape  shall  we  make  it?"  asked  she. 
"  The  square  with  the  serpents  ?  " 

"  No,  the  big  heart  is  prettier,"  ^3-  said  Frau  Had- 
wig. So  the  gingerbread  was  baked  in  the  shape  of 
hearts,  and  the  finest  was  stuck  with  almonds  and 
cardamom  by   the  duchess's  own  hand. 


1 86  EKKEHAKD 

One  morning  Audifax  entered  the  kitchen,  half 
frozen  with  cold,  and  crept  up  to  the  fireplace.  His 
lips  trembled  as  in  a  fever  ;  but  he  was  happy,  and  in 
high  spirits.  "  Get  ready,  my  boy,"  said  Praxedis, 
"  for  this  afternoon  thou  must  go  over  into  the  forest 
and  hew  down  a  fir-tree." 

"  That  is  not  my  business,"  proudly  said  Audifax, 
"but  I  will  do  it,  if  you  will  also  do  me  a  favor.*' 

"  And  what  does  master  goat-herd  desire  ?  "  asked 
Praxedis. 

Audifax  ran  out,  and  on  returning,  triumphantly 
held  up  a  dark-brown  otter-skin,  glossy  and  soft  to 
the  touch. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  from  ?  "  asked  Praxedis. 

"  I  caught  it  myself,"  replied  Audifax,  looking  with 
sparkling  eyes  at  his  booty.  "  Will  you  make  a 
fur  cap  out  of  it  for  Hadumoth  ?  " 

The  Greek  maid  liked  the  boy  well,  and  premised 
to  fulfil  his  request. 

The  Christmas-tree  was  brought  home ;  they  deco- 
rated it  with  apples  and  wax-lights.  The  duchess 
arranged  everything  in  the  great  hall.  A  man  from 
Stein  on  the  Rhine  had  arrived  and  brought  a  bas- 
ket tightly  sewed  up  in  linen.  He  said  that  it  was 
from  St.  Gall,  and  destined  for  Herr  Ekkehard. 
Frau  Hadwig  had  the  basket  put  unopened  on  the 
table  with  the  other  gifts. 

Christmas  Eve  had  arrived.  All  the  inhabitants 
of  the  castle  were  assembled,  dressed  in  festal  array ; 
for  on  that  day  there  was  to  be  no  separation  between 
masters  and  ser\'ants.  Ekkehard  read  to  them  the 
story  of  the  Saviour's  nativity;  then  they  all  went, 


CHRISTMAS  187 

two  and  two,  into  the  great  hall,  where  there  was  a 
blaze  of  lights.  The  dark  fir-tree,  with  its  many 
candles,  shone  splendidly.  The  last  to  enter  were 
Audifax  and  Hadumoth.  A  little  bit  of  tinsel,  with 
which  the  nuts  had  been  gilded,  lay  on  the  threshold. 
Audifax  stooped  to  pick  it  up  ;  it  crumbled  in  his 
fingers. 

"  That  fell  off  from  the  wings  of  the  Christ-child," 
whispered  Hadumoth. 

On  large  tables  lay  the  presents  for  the  serving- 
people,  —  a  piece  of  linen  or  cloth,  and  some  cakes. 
They  rejoiced  at  their  mistress's  geniality,  which  was 
not  always  so  manifest.  Together  with  Hadumoth's 
share  lay  the  fur  cap.  She  wept  when  Praxedis 
kindly  betrayed  the  giver  to  her. 

"  I  have  nothing  for  thee,"  said  she  to  Audifax. 
'  *'  It  is  instead  of  the  golden  crown,"  whispered  he. 

Men  and  maid-servants  thanked  the  duchess,  and 
went  down  to  the  servants'  hall.  Frau  Hadwigtook 
Ekkehard  by  the  hand  and  led  him  to  a  little  table. 

"  This  is  for  you,"  said  she. 

With  the  almond-covered  gingerbread  heart  and 
the  basket  lay  a  handsome  velvet  biretta  and  a 
magnificent  stole.  Fringe  and  ground  were  of  gold 
thread  ;  dark  dots  were  embroidered  in  it  in  black 
silk,  some  of  them  studded  with  pearls.  It  was  wor- 
thy of  a  bishop. 

"  Let  me  see  how  it  becomes  you,"  said  Praxedis ; 
and  in  spite  of  their  ecclesiastical  character,  she  put 
the  cap  on  his  head,  and  threw  the  stole  over  his 
shoulders.  Ekkehard  cast  down  his  eyes.  "  Splen- 
did," she  exclaimed  ;  "  you  may  offer  your  thanks  !  " 


1 88  EKKEHARD 

Shyly  Ekkehard  took  off  the  consecrated  gifts; 
out  of  his  ample  garment  he  drew  the  parchment 
roll,  and  timidly  presented  it  to  the  duchess.  Frau 
Hadwig  held  it  unopened  in  her  hand. 

"  First  we  must  open  the  basket,"  she  said. 
"The  best"  —  smilingly  pointing  to  the  parchment 
—  "  must  come  last." 

So  they  cut  open  the  basket.  Buried  in  hay,  and 
well  preserved  by  the  winter's  cold,  lay  a  huge  black- 
cock. Ekkehard  lifted  it  up.  With  outspread 
wings  it  measured  more  than  the  height  of  a  man. 
A  letter  accompanied  this  magnificent  piece  of 
feathered  game. 

"  Read  it  aloud  !  "  said  the  duchess,  whose  curi- 
osity was  aroused.  Ekkehard  broke  the  clumsy  seal 
and  read  as  follows  :  — 

To  the  I'everend  Brother  Ekkehard  on  the  Hohen- 
tiviel^  throiigJi  Burkard  the  cloistei'-pupil^  from 
Romeias  the  watchman  at  the  gate. 

If  there  were  two  of  them^  one  would  be  for  you ; 
but  as  I  have  not  beett  lucky  enough  to  get  two,  this 
one  is  fiotfor  you,  and  yours  will  come  later.  It  is 
sent  to  you  on  account  of  not  knowing  her  7iaine; 
biit  she  was  with  the  lady  duchess  in  the  monastery 
on  that  day,  and  wore  a  dress  of  the  color  of  the 
green  woodpecker^  and  her  tresses  luere  fastened 
round  her  head. 

For  her  the  bird,  on  account  of  continical  think- 
ing, on  the  part  of  him  who  shot  it,  of  the  walk  to 
the  recluses.  It  must  be  well  macerated  and  roasted^ 
because   otherwise  tough.     In  case  of  other  guests, 


CHRISTMAS  1 89 

she  is  he7'self  to  eat  the  white  jneat  on  the  backbone^ 
becattse  that  is  the  best;  the  brown  often  having  a 
7'esinoics  taste. 

With  it  all  blessings  afid  happiness  /  To  you, 
reverend  brother,  likewise.  If  on  your  castle  were 
wanting  a  watchman,  porter,  or  gamekeeper,  you 
might  recommend  Romeias  to  the  duchess j  for  on 
account  of  being  mocked  at  by  the  steward,  a7id  of 
the  co7nplaints  of  that  dragon  Wiborad,  he  would 
gladly  change  his  service.  Testimony  as  to  his  skill 
as  gatekeeper,  both  in  giving  admittance  and  pitch- 
ing 02ct  of  strange  visitors,  can  be  furnished.  The 
sajne  with  regard  to  hunting.  He  is  already  now 
.looking  toward  the  Hohejitwiel,  as  if  a  cord  were 
drawing  him  thither.  Long  life  to  you  and  to  the 
lady  duchess  !     Farewell  / 

A  merry  peal  of  laughter  followed  the  reading. 
Praxedis  had  grown  red  in  the  face.  "  That  is  mean 
thanks  from  you,"  angrily  exclaimed  she  to  Ekke- 
hard,  "  that  you  write  letters  in  another  man's  name, 
to  insult  me ! " 

"  Stop,"  said  he.  "  Why  should  the  letter  not  be 
genuine  ?  " 

"  It  would  not  be  the  first  that  was  forged  by  a 
monk,"  was  Praxedis's  bitter  reply.  "  Why  need 
you  make  sport  of  that  rough  huntsman  ?  He  was 
by  no  means  so  bad  !  " 

"  Praxedis,  be  reasonable ! "  urged  the  duchess. 
"Look  at  that  black-cock!  that  was  never  shot  in 
the  Hegau;  and  Ekkehard  writes  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent hand.  Shall  we  give  the  petitioner  a  place  on 
the  Hohentwiel  ?  " 


igo  EKKEHARD 

"  I  beg  of  you  not,''  cried  Praxedis,  eagerly.  "  Xo 
one  is  to  believe  that  —  " 

"Very  well,''  said  Frau  Hadwig,  in  a  tone  be- 
speaking silence.  She  unrolled  Ekkehard's  parch- 
ment. The  painting  at  the  beginning  had  succeeded 
tolerably  well ;  any  doubt  as  to  its  meaning  was  ob- 
viated by  the  superscription  of  the  names,  —  Had- 
wigis,  Vergilius,  and  Ekkehard.  A  bold  initial,  with 
intricate  golden  arabesques,  headed  the  poem. 

The  duchess  was  highly  pleased.  Ekkehard  had 
never  before  given  her  any  proof  of  his  possessing 
such  skill  in  art.  Praxedis  looked  at  the  purple 
mantle  which  the  duchess  in  the  picture  wore,  and 
smiled  as  if  she  knew  something  about  it. 

Frau  Hadwig  made  a  sign  to  Ekkehard  to  read 
and  explain  the  poem.  He  read  it.  In  EngHsh  it 
runs  as  follows :  — 

At  silent  midtiight  I  was  sitting  lone, 

And  poring  over  ancient  tnamiscripts, 

When  through  my  chamber  flashed  a  sudden  gleam 

Of  superjiatnral  light .    ""Twasjiot  the  moon. 

And  then  before  me  stood  a  radiant  form :  — 

A  stnile  imtnortal  hovered  round  his  lips, 

In  raven  ttiasses  waved  his  flowing  locks, 

And  for  a  crown  he  wore  the  laurel  wreath. 

And  pointing  to  the  parchment  book  unrolled 

To  tne  he  spake:   '■'■  Be  not  dismayed,  my  friend. 

No  spirit  to  disturb  thy  peace  am  I  ; 

Only  to  wish  thee  cccry  good  I  come  ; 

What  in  dead  letter  still  is  told  thee  there 

Once  with  my  own  warm  hearths  blood  did  I  write ;  — 

The  Trojan  arms,  Aeneas^  wanderings. 

The  wrath  of  gods,  the  founding  of  proud  Rome. 


CHRISTMAS  igi 

'*  A  thousand  years  will  soon  have  rolled  away : 

The  bard  is  dead  ;  dead  are  his  tiation  all. 

My  grave  is  silent.     Rarely  come  to  me 

The  sounds  of  jocund  vintage  festivals 

Or  roar  of  surf  on  neighboring  Cape  Misene. 

"  But  lately  hath  the  north  wind  broke  my  rest :  — 
He  brought  me  tidings  that  in  foreign  lands 
Once  more  Aeneas''  history  is  read ; 
And  that  a  proud  and  august  princess  there 
Bids  graciously  her  native  tongue  to  wreathe 
As  a  new  garment  round  my  epic  words. 

"  We  used  to  think  the  Rhitieland  ''neath  the  Alps 

Was  marshy  fens  ^  where  dwelt  a  barbarous  folk. 

Oblivion  has  become  our  lot  at  home  ; 

But  in  the  distant  land  we  live  anew. 

For  this  to  thank  you  am  I  here  to-day. 

The  costliest  guerdon  minstrel  ever  ivins 

Is  when  a  noble  wojnan  gives  him  praise. 

"  Hail  to  thy  lady,  who  the  wondrous  dower 
Of  strength  and  wisdom  holds  in  union  rare  ; 
Who  like  Minerva  mid  her  kindred  gods 
Is  clad  in  warlike  brass,  in  battle  proved. 
And  yet  protects  and  shields  the  arts  of  peace. 
May  she  the  sceptre  wield  for  long,  long  ycars^ 
A  strong  and  happy  people  round  her  flourish  ! 

"  And  if  strange  music  ever  meet  your  ears 
Like  song  of  heroes  and  a  distant  harp, 
Then  think  of  me :  Italia  greets  you  then  ; 
Vcrgilius greets  the  heights  of  Hohentwiel!  " 

Thus  spake  he,  and  with  fricttdly  gesture  vanished; 
And  I  that  self-saine  night  zvrote  down  the  words 
His  lips  had  uttered.      To  my  mistress  now 
'  T  is  offered  as  a  humble  Christmas  gift 
By  her  own  faithful  servaiit  Ekkehard  ! 


192  EKKEHARD 

A  short  pause  ensued  after  he  had  finished  the 
reading  of  his  poem.  Then  the  duchess  approached 
him  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  Ekkehard,  I  thank  you,"  said  she. 

They  were  the  same  words  which  she  had  once 
said  to  him  in  the  cloistered  courtyard  at  St.  Gall ;  but 
the  tones  were  still  milder  than  at  that  time ;  her 
eyes  sparkled  and  her  lips  wore  a  wondrous  smile, 
like  that  of  sweet-eyed  fairies,  which  is  said  to  be 
followed  by  a  shower  of  snow-white  roses. 

She  then  turned  to  Praxedis  :  *'  And  thee  I  ought 
to  condemn  to  ask  his  pardon  on  thy  very  knees,  for 
having  but  lately  spoken  with  so  little  veneration  of 
learned  and  ecclesiastical  men." 

But  the  Greek  girFs  eyes  sparkled  mischievously, 
well  knowing  that  without  her  help  and  advice  the 
shy  monk  would  scarcely  have  been  able  to  attain 
this  success. 

"In  future  I  will  pay  him  all  the  reverence  that  is 
due,"  said  she.  "  I  will  even  weave  him  a  garland 
if  you  desire  it." 

After  Ekkehard  had  gone  up  to  his  little  chamber, 
and  the  quiet  midnight  hour  was  at  hand,  the  two 
women  still  were  sitting  together.  And  the  Greek 
girl  fetched  a  basin  filled  with  water,  some  pieces  of 
lead,  and  a  metal  spoon. 

"  Last  year's  lead-melting  prophesied  well,"  said 
she.  *'  We  could  not  then  quite  understand  what 
the  strange  shape  was  which  the  lead  assumed  in 
the  water  ;  but  now  I  am  more  and  more  inclined 
to  think  that  it  resembled  a  monk's  cowl;  and  that 
our  castle  has  come  into  possession  of." 


CHRISTMAS  193 

The  duchess  had  become  thoughtful.  She  listened 
to  hear  whether  Ekkehard  might  not  be  returning. 

"  It  is  nothing  but  an  idle  amusement,"  said  she. 

"  If  it  does  not  please  my  mistress,"  said  the  Greek 
girl,  "  then  she  might  order  our  teacher  to  entertain 
us  with  something  better.  His  Vergilius  is  no  doubt 
a  far  more  rehable  oracle  of  the  future  than  our  lead, 
when  opened,  on  a  consecrated  night,  with  prayers 
and  a  blessing.  I  am  quite  curious  to  know  what 
part  of  his  epic  would  foretell  to  us  the  events  of 
the  coming  year." 

"  Be  silent !  "  said  the  duchess.  "  He  spoke  but 
lately  so  sternly  against  witchcraft ;  he  would  laugh 
at  us.  .  .  ." 

"  Then  we  shall  have  to  content  ourselves  with 
the  old  way,"  returned  Praxedis  ;  and  she  held  the 
spoon  with  the  lead  in  it  over  the  flame  of  the  lamp. 
The  lead  melted  and  trembled  ;  then  she  stood  up, 
muttered  a  few  unintelligible  words,  and  poured  it  into 
the  water ;  the  liquid  metal  made  a  hissing  sound. 

Frau  Hadwig,  with  assumed  indifference,  cast  a 
look  at  it ;  Praxedis  held  the  basin  up  to  the  light. 
Instead  of  dividing  into  fantastic  shapes,  the  lead 
had  formed  a  long  pointed  drop.  It  glimmered 
faintly  in   Frau  Hadwig's  hand. 

"  That  is  another  riddle  for  time  to  solve,"  laughed 
Praxedis.  "  The  future  this  time  closely  resembles 
a  pine  cone." 

"  Or  a  tear,"  said  the  duchess,  seriously,  and  she 
leaned  her  head  on  her  hand.^^^^ 

A  loud  noise  from  the  ground  floor  of  the  castle 
interrupted  the  further  investigation  of  the  omen. 
VOL.  I.  — 13 


194  EKKEHARD 

Giggling  and  screams  of  the  maid-servants,  rough 
sounds  of  men's  voices,  and  the  shrill  tones  of  a 
lute  were  heard  in  wild  confusion  coming  up  the 
passage.  Respectfully  but  beseechingly  the  flying 
troop  of  maids  stopped  at  the  threshold.  The  tall 
Friderun  could  scarcely  refrain  from  scolding  at  the 
top  of  her  voice ;  little  Hadumoth  was  crying. 
Groping,  heavy  steps  were  heard  behind  them,  and 
presently  there  appeared  an  uncouth  figure,  wrapped 
in  a  bearskin,  with  a  painted  wooden  mask  in  the  form 
of  a  bears  snout ;  it  snarled  and  growled  like  a 
hungry  bruin  seeking  for  its  pre}',  and  now  and 
then  plucked  clumsily  at  a  lute  which  hung  by  a  red 
ribbon  over  its  shaggy  shoulders ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
door  of  the  hall  was  thrown  open,  and  the  duchess's 
rustling  dress  was  heard  approaching,  the  nocturnal 
apparition  turned  round,  and  slowly  stumbled  back 
into  the  echoing  passage. 

The  old  housekeeper  then  found  her  tongue,  and 
told  their  mistress  how  they  had  been  sitting  merrily 
together,  rejoicing  over  their  Christmas  presents,  when 
the  monster  had  broken  in  upon  them,  and  had  first 
executed  a  fine  danee  to  its  own  lute-playing  ;  how 
then  it  had  blown  out  the  candles  and  threatened 
the  frightened  maidens  with  kisses  and  embraces,  and 
had  become  so  wild  and  obstreperous  that  they  had 
all  been  obliged  to  take  flight. 

By  the  hoarse  laughter  of  the  bear  there  was 
strong  reason  for  suspecting  that  hidden  under  the 
shaggy  fur  was  Herr  Spazzo  the  chamberlain,  who, 
after  imbibing  a  considerable  quantity  of  wine,  had 
concluded  his  Christmas  frolics  in  that  way. 


CHRISTMAS  195 

Frau  Hadwig  appeased  her  indignant  servants,  and 
bade  them  go  to  bed.  From  the  yard,  however,  was 
soon  heard  another  cry  of  surprise.  There  they  all 
stood  in  a  group,  gazing  up  at  the  tower;  for  the  ter- 
rible bear  had  climbed  up,  and  was  now  promenad- 
ing on  the  top  of  it,  hfting  his  shaggy  head  up  to 
the  stars,  as  if  he  wanted  to  send  a  greeting  to  his 
namesake,  —  the  Great  Bear  high  up  in  the  firma- 
ment. 

The  dark  figure  stood  out  in  clear  outlines  against 
the  pale  starry  sky ;  his  growls  weirdly  sounded 
through  the  silent  night;  but  no  mortal  ever 
knew  what  the  luminous  constellations  revealed 
to  the  wine-clouded  brains  of  Herr  Spazzo  the 
chamberlain.  .  .  . 

At  the  same  midnight  hour  Ekkehard  knelt  before 
the  altar  of  the  castle  chapel,  softly  chanting  the 
Christmas-matins,-34  as  the  church  rules  prescribed. 


196  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE   OLD   MAX    OF    THE    HEIDENHOHLE. 

The  rest  of  the  winter  on  the  Hobentwiel  passed 
monotonously,  and  so  was  quickly  over.  They 
prayed  and  worked,  read  \^ergil  and  studied  gram- 
mar, ever}'  day.  Frau  Had  wig  had  quite  given  up 
asking  embarrassing  questions. 

During  the  Carnival,  the  neighboring  nobility 
came  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  duchess,  —  those 
of  the  Nellenburg  and  of  Veringen;  the  old  count 
of  Argengau  with  his  daughters,  the  seven  Guelphs 
from  over  the  lake,  and  many  others. ^^  Then  there 
was  much  feasting,  accompanied  by  more  drinking. 

After  that  it  became  lonely  again  on  the  mountain- 
top. 

March  had  come,  heavy  gales  blew  over  the  land. 
On  the  first  starlight  night  there  was  a  comet  in  the 
sky  ;  13^  and  the  stork  which  lived  comfortably  on 
the  castle-gable  had  flown  away  again  a  week  after 
its  return.  The  people  shook  their  heads.  Then 
the  shepherd  of  Engen  came  along  driving  his  flock 
past  the  mountain;  he  told  how  he  had  met  the 
army-worm  ;  ^^'^  that  means  war. 

A  strange,  uncomfortable  feeling  took  possession 
of  all  minds.  The  approach  of  an  earthquake  is 
often  felt  at  a  considerable  distance,  —  here  by  the 


OLD  MAN  OF   THE  HEIDENHOHLE    1 97 

stopping  of  a  spring,  there  by  the  anxious  flying 
about  of  birds  ;  in  the  same  way  the  danger  of  war 
makes  itself  felt  beforehand. 

Herr  Spazzo,  who  had  bravely  sat  behind  the 
wine-jug  in  February,  now  walked  about  with  a 
downcast  expression. 

"Will  you  do  me  a  favor,"  said  he  one  evening 
to  Ekkehard.  "In  my  dream  I  saw  a  dead  fish 
floating  on  its  back.  I  wish  to  make  my  last  will. 
The  world  has  become  old,  and  is  left  standing 
on  its  last  leg;  and  that  also  will  soon  give  way. 
Good-bye,  then,  Firnewine  !  Besides,  we  are  not  very 
far  off  from  the  Millennium,  and  have  Hved  merrily 
enough.  Perhaps  one's  last  years  will  count  double. 
Mankind  can  not  accomplish  much  more.  Civiliza- 
tion has  gone  so  far  that  in  this  one  castle  of  Hohen- 
twiel  more  than  half  a  dozen  books  lie  heaped  up ; 
and  when  a  fellow  gets  a  good  thrashing,  he  goes 
up  to  court  and  makes  his  complaint,  instead  of 
burning  down  his  enemy's  house  over  his  head.  So 
the  world  is  coming  to  an  end."  1^8 

"  Who  is  to  be  your  heir,  if  all  the  world  is  to 
perish  ?  "  asked  Ekkehard  . 

A  man  from  Augsburg  coming  to  the  Reichenau 
brought  evil  tidings.  Bishop  Ulrich  had  prom- 
ised a  precious  relic  to  the  monastery,  —  the  right 
arm  of  the  holy  Theopontus,  richly  set  in  silver  and 
precious  stones.  He  now  sent  word  that,  as  the 
country  was  unsafe  at  present,  he  could  not  risk 
sending  it. 

The  abbot  ordered  the  man  to  go  to  the  Hohen- 
twiel  to  inform  the  duchess  of  the  state  of  things. 


198  EKKEHARD 

"  What  good  news  do  you  bring  ?  "  slie  asked  of 
him. 

"  Not  much.  I  would  rather  carry  away  good 
news  from  here.  The  Suabian  arriere-ban  is  up  in 
arms ;  horses  and  riders,  as  many  as  have  a  sword 
and  shield  hanging  on  their  walls,  are  ready.  They 
are  again  on  the  road  between  the  Danube  and  the 
Rhine,"  ... 

"Who?" 

"  Our  old  friends  from  over  yonder :  the  small 
fellows  with  the  deep-set  eyes  and  blunt  noses.  A 
good  deal  of  tough  meat  will  again  be  ridden  tender 
under  the  saddle  this  year." 

He  drew  out  of  his  pocket  a  small  horseshoe,  of 
strange  shape,  with  a  high  caulk  to  it.  Do  you 
know  the  proverb  :  — 

Little  hoof  a7id  little  steed. 

Crooked  sabre,  arrows  keen. 

Quick  as  lightning, 

Ne'er  at  rest, 

Lord,  deliver  lis  from  this  pest  ! 

"  The  Huns  ?  "  ^^9  exclaimed  the  duchess,  startled. 

"Whether  you  prefer  to  call  them  Hungarians  or 
Hungry-ones,  't  is  the  same  to  me,"  said  the  mes- 
senger. "  Bishop  Pilgrim  sent  the  tidings  from  Pas- 
sau  to  Freising ;  from  there  the  story  reached  us. 
They  have  already  swum  across  the  Danube,  and 
like  locusts  they  will  be  falling  into  the  German 
lands  ;  quick  as  winged  devils  they  are.  'You  may 
sooner  catch  the  wind  on  the  plain,  or  the  bird 
in  the  air,'  is  an  old  saying  with  us.  May  their 
horses  get  the  blind   staggers  !     As  for  myself,  my 


OLD  MAN  OF   THE   HEIDENHOHLE    1 99 

only  fear  is  for  my  sister's  child,  —  the  pretty  little 
Bertha  at  Passau." 

"  It  is  impossible  !  "  said  Frau  Hadwig.  "  Can 
they  have  forgotten  already  what  answer  Echanger 
and  Berchtold,  the  messengers  of  the  Exche- 
quer, returned  them :  '  We  have  iron  and  swords, 
and  five  fingers  to  our  hands'?  In  the  battle  on 
the  Inn,  these  words  were  plainly  written  on  their 
heads.  ..." 

"  For  that  very  reason,"  said  the  man.  "  He  who 
has  been  beaten  once,  likes  to  come  back  and  beat 
in  his  turn.  The  messengers  of  the  Exchequer,  as 
a  reward  for  their  bravery,  had  their  heads  cut  off ; 
so  who  will  take  their  places  in  the  van  ?  " 

"  We  likewise  know  the  path  on  which  our  ances- 
tors went  out  to  meet  the  enemy,"  proudly  returned 
the  duchess. 

She  dismissed  the  man  from  Augsburg  with  a 
present.     Then  she  sent  for  Ekkehard. 

"  Vergil  will  have  to  rest  a  while,"  said  she,  and 
she  told  him  of  the  danger  threatened  by  the  Huns. 
The  state  of  things  was  by  no  means  pleasant.  The 
nobles  had  forgotten,  in  personal  feuds  of  long 
standing,  how  to  act  in  common  ;  the  Emperor,  of 
Saxon  origin  and  not  over-fond  of  the  Suabians,  was 
fighting  in  Italy,  far  away  from  the  German  frontier; 
the  passage  to  the  Bodensee  was  open  to  the  strange 
visitors.  Their  very  name  inspired  terror.  For 
years  their  hordes  had  been  swarming  like  will-o'-the- 
wisps  through  the  disorganized  realm  which  Charle- 
magne had  left  in  the  hands  of  incompetent  succes- 
sors.    From  the   shores   of  the  North   Sea,   where 


200  EKKEHARD 

the  ruins  of  Bremen  bore  witness  of  theii  invasion, 
down  to  the  southern  point  of  Calabria,  where  the 
natives  had  to  pay  a  ransom  for  each  head,  fire 
and  plunder  marked  their  way.  .  .  . 

"  Unless  the  pious  Bishop  Ulrich  has  seen  ghosts," 
said  the  duchess,  *'  they  are  certain  to  come  to  us 
also;  what  is  to  be  done?  To  meet  them  in  open 
battle  ?  Even  bravery  is  folly  when  the  enemy  is 
too  numerous.  To  buy  peace  by  paying  tribute  and 
ransom,  and  so  drive  them  over  to  our  neighbors' 
territory  ?  Others  have  done  that,  but  we  have 
other  ideas  of  honor  and  dishonor.  Are  we  to  barri- 
cade ourselves  on  the  Hohentwiel,  and  leave  the  land 
to  their  mercy  .''  They  are  our  subjects,  and  we  have 
promised  them  our  ducal  protection.     Advise  us  !  " 

"  My  knowledge  does  not  extend  to  such  matters," 
sorrowfully  replied  Ekkehard. 

The  duchess  was  excited,  "  Oh,  schoolmaster," 
6ried  she,  reproachfully,  "  why  did  not  Heaven  make 
you  a  warrior  1     Many  things  would  be  better  then  !  " 

Ekkehard,  deeply  hurt,  turned  to  go.  The  words 
had  entered  his  heart  like  an  arrow,  and  remained 
there.  There  was  some  truth  in  the  reproach  ;  so  it 
hurt  him. 

"Ekkehard,"  called  Frau  Hadwig,  "you  must  not 
go.  You  must  serve  the  country  with  your  knowl- 
edge, and  what  you  do  not  know  as  yet,  you  may 
learn.  I  will  send  you  to  some  one  who,  if  he  is 
still  alive,  is  well  versed  in  such  matters.  Will  you 
undertake  this  mission  for  me  ?  " 

Ekkehard  had  turned  round  again.  "  I  never  have 
been  unwilling  to  serve  my  mistress,"  said  he. 


OLD  MAN  OF   THE  HEIDENHOHLE   201 

"  But  you  must  not  be  startled  if  he  gives  you  but 
a  rough  and  unfriendly  reception.  He  has  suffered 
many  a  wrong  from  past  generations ;  and  those  of 
the  present  day  do  not  know  him.  Neither  must  you 
be  startled  if  he  should  appear  to  you  very  old  and 
fat." 

He  had  listened  attentively. 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand  you  ..." 

"  It  makes  no  difference,"  said  the  duchess.  "  To- 
morrow you  are  to  go  over  to  Sipplingen.  Over 
yonder,  at  the  lake  of  Ueberlingen,  where  the  steep 
rocky  shore  sinks  down  into  the  water,  are  all  sorts 
of  caverns,  cut  into  the  cliff  in  the  olden  times  for 
human  habitations.  If  you  see  the  smoke  of  a  fire 
.rising  out  of  the  hill,  then  go  up  to  it.  There  you 
will  find  the  person  I  want  you  to  see  ;  speak  with 
him  about  the  Huns."  .  .  . 

"  To  whom  is  my  mistress  sending  me  "i  "  inquired 
Ekkehard,  eagerly. 

"  To  the  old  man  of  the  Heidenhohle,"  replied 
Frau  Hadwig.  "  No  one  knows  any  other  name  for 
him  hereabouts.  But  stop,"  continued  she ;  "  I 
must  give  you  the  watchword,  in  case  he  refuses 
you  admittance." 

She  went  to  her  cupboard,  and  rummaged  about 
among  trinkets  and  other  articles  ;  then  she  brought 
out  a  tiny  slate  on  which  were  scrawled  a  few  letters. 
"  This  you  must  say  to  him,  and  give  him  a  greeting 
from  me." 

Ekkehard  looked  at  the  slate.  It  contained  only 
the  two  insignificant  Latin  words,  "  iieque  aiiin  !  " 
—  nothing  else. 

"  That  has  no  meaning,"  said  he. 


202  EKKEHARD 

''  It  makes  no  difference  ;  the  old  man  knows  well 
what  it  means  for  him.*'   .  .  . 

Before  cockcrow  the  next  morning  Ekkehard  had 
already  ridden  out  of  the  gate  of  the  Hohentwiel. 
The  fresh  morning  air  blew  into  his  face  ;  he  wrapped 
himself  closely  in  his  cowl.  *'  Why  did  not  Heaven 
make  you  a  warrior  ?  many  things  would  be  better 
then."  These  words  of  the  duchess  went  with  him, 
like  his  own  shadow.  They  were  for  him  a  spur  to 
courageous  resolutions.  "  If  the  danger-  comes," 
thought  he,  "  she  shall  not  find  the  schoolmaster 
sitting  behind  his  books." 

His  horse  went  on  at  a  good  pace.  In  a  few  hours 
he  rode  over  the  woody  hills  that  separate  the  Unter- 
see  from  the  lake  of  Uberlingen.  At  the  ducal  farm 
of  Sernatingen  the  blue  expanse  of  the  lake  greeted 
him.  He  left  his  horse  in  the  steward's  care,  and 
walked  on  by  the  path  that  leads  along  the  shore. 

At  a  projecting  point  he  stopped  a  while,  capti- 
vated by  the  fine  view.  His  gaze,  unobstructed, 
leaped  across  the  waters  to  the  distant  Rh^etian  Alps, 
which  rise  heavenward  like  a  cr^'stalline  wall,  forming 
the  back-ground  of  the  landscape. 

Where  the  sandstone  rocks  arise  perpendicularly 
out  of  the  lake,  the  path  mounted  upward.  Steps 
hewn  in  the  rocks  made  the  ascent  easier.  Apertures 
serving  as  windows,  with  dark  shadows  in  their  hol- 
lows, relieving  the  light  surface  of  the  walls,  indicated 
the  places  where,  in  the  days  of  the  Roman  suprem- 
acy, unknown  men  had  dug  out  these  caverns  as  an 
underground  refuge  like  the  catacombs.^^° 

The   ascent   was  fatifruing:.      He  now  reached  a 


OLD  MAN  OF   THE  HEIDENHOHLE    203 

level  enclosure,  only  a  few  steps  in  circumference,  on 
which  young  grass  was  growing.  Before  him  opened 
an  entrance  into  the  rock,  about  the  height  of  a  man  ; 
but  a  huge  black  dog  rushed  out,  violently  barking. 
Two  paces  from  Ekkehard  he  stopped  short,  ready  to 
fly  at  him  ;  his  eyes  were  steadily  fixed  on  the  monk, 
who  could  not  move  without  risk  of  the  dog  setting 
his  teeth  in  his  throat.  His  position  was  certainly 
not  enviable  ;  retreat  was  impossible,  and  Ekkehard 
did  not  carry  arms.  So  he  remained  immovable, 
facing  his  enemy ;  then  at  an  opening  at  one  side 
appeared  a  man's  face.  He  had  gray  hair,  piercing 
eyes,  and  a  reddish  beard. 

"  Call  back  the  dog  !  "  cried  Ekkehard. 

In  a  few  moments  the  gray-haired  man  appeared 
at  the  entrance.     He  was  armed  with  a  spear. 

"  Back,  Mummolin  !  "  he  cried. 

The  huge  animal  reluctantly  obeyed ;  not  until  the 
old  man  had  threatened  it  with  his  spear,  did  it 
retreat  growling. 

"  Your  dog  ought  to  be  killed,  and  hung  up  nine 
feet  over  your  door,  until  he  rotted  and  fell  to  pieces 
on  yourhead,"!^!  said  Ekkehard,  angrily.  "  He  nearly 
made  me  fall  over  into  the  lake."  He  looked  round  ; 
perpendicularly  below  him  billowed  the  lake. 

"In  the  Heidenhohlen  the  common  laws  have  no 
force,"  defiantly  replied  the  old  man.  "  With  us, 
'tis,  — '  Keep  off  two  paces,  or  we  split  your  skull.' " 

Ekkehard  started  to  go  forward. 

"  Stop  there,"  continued  the  stranger,  ban-ing  the 
passage  with  his  spear.  "  Not  so  fast.  Where  are 
you  going  ?  " 


204  EKKEHARD 

"To  the  old  man  of  the  Heidenhohle." 

"To  the  old  man  of  the  Heidenhohle?"  angrily 
repeated  the  other.  "  Have  you  no  more  respectful 
term  for  that  personage,  you  yellow-beaked  cowl- 
bearer?  " 

"  I  know  no  other  name,"  replied  Ekkehard  some- 
what abashed.     "  My  greeting  is  neqiie  eniiii.'"' 

"That  sounds  better,"  said  the  old  man  in  a  softer 
tone,  and  offered  him  his  hand.  "  Whence  do  you 
come  ?  " 

"From  the  Hohentwiel.     I  am  to  tell  you  —  " 

"  Stop,  I  am  not  he  whom  you  seek.  I  am  merely 
his  servant  Rauching.     I  will  announce  you." 

Considering  the  appearance  of  those  barren,  rocky 
walls  and  the  black  dog,  this  formality  was  surpris- 
ing. Ekkehard  was  kept  waiting  a  good  while.  It 
seemed  as  if  preparations  for  his  reception  were  being 
made.     At  last  Rauching  appeared  once  more. 

"  Be  pleased  to  enter." 

They  walked  along  the  dark  passage.  It  widened 
into  a  chamber  hewn  in  the  rocks  by  human  hands, 
high  and  spacious,  with  an  arched  vault.  A  rough 
panelling  partly  covered  the  walls.  The  openings 
for  the  windows  were  wide  and  airy.  Like  a  picture 
enclosed  in  a  frame  gleamed  an  expanse  of  blue  lake 
and  distant  wooded  hills.  A  beam  of  bright,  vivid 
sunlight  streamed  into  the  dark  chamber.  Here  and 
there  evidences  of  stone  benches  were  visible  ;  near 
the  window  stood  a  high-backed  stone  chair,  resem- 
bling a  bishop's  seat  in  old  churches.  In  it  a  figure 
was  seated. 

It   was  a  strange,  human  form,  of  mightv  dimen- 


OLD  MAN   OF   THE   HEIDENH'OHLE    205 

sions.  The  huge  head  rested  heavily  between  the 
shoulders ;  wrinkles  deeply  furrowed  forehead  and 
cheeks:  a  few  scanty  white  locks  clustered  round 
the  crown  of  his  head;  his  mouth  was  almost  en- 
tirely toothless.  The  nyan  seemed  to  be  as  old 
as  the  hills.  Over  his  shoulders  hung  a  cloak  of 
unrecognizable  color ;  the  back  of  it  hidden  by 
the  chair  was  no  doubt  threadbare  enough ;  the 
seams  and  folds  betrayed  traces  of  past  patching. 
He  wore  a  pair  of  coarse  boots ;  by  his  side  lay  an 
old  hat  with  a  dusty  trimming  of  fox's  fur.  A  niche 
in  the  wall  held  a  chess-board  with  carved  ivory 
pieces.  A  game  seemed  to  have  been  just  finished; 
there  stood  the  king  checkmated  by  a  knight,  and 
two  bishops  ... 

"  Who  comes  to  the  forgotten  one  ?  "  asked  the 
old  man,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

Then  Ekkehard,  bowing  his  head  before  him,  told 
his  name,  and  who  had  sent  him  there. 

"  You  have  brought  an  evil  watchword  with  you. 
Do  people  still  speak  of  Luitward  of  Vercelli  .^  " 

"Whose  soul  be  damned,"  added  Raucliing. 

"  I  have  never  heard  anything  about  him,"  said 
Ekkehard. 

"  Tell  him,  Rauching,  who  Luitward  of  Vercelli 
was.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  his  memory  were  to  die 
out  among  men." 

"  He  was  the  greatest  rascal  that  ever  the  sun 
shone  upon,"  was  Rauching's  reply. 

"  Tell  him  also  what  the  meaning  of  nequee7iii)i  is." 

"  There  is  no  gratitude  in  this  world  ;  and  of  an 
Emperor's  friends  the  best  is  a  traitor." 


206  EKKEHARD 

"  Even  tlie  best  is  a  traitor,"  murmured  the  old 
man,  lost  in  thought.  His  eye  now  fell  on  the  chess- 
board. "Ah  yes,"  he  muttered  faintly,  "check- 
mated, —  checkmated  by  bishops  and  knights,"  — 
he  clenched  his  fist,  and  made  a  movement  as  if  to 
rise  :  then  he  sighed  deeply,  and  raised  his  shrivelled 
hand  to  his  forehead  and  rested  his  heavy  head  on  it. 

"  The  headache  !  "  said  he,  —  "  ttie  cursed  head- 
ache ! " 

"  Mummolin  !  "  cried  Ranching. 

With  great  bounds  the  black  dog  came  rushing 
in ;  when  he  saw  the  old  man  with  down-bent  head, 
he  whiningly  crept  up  to  him,  and  licked  his  fore- 
head. "  'Tis  well,"  said  the  old  man,  after  a  while, 
lifting  himself  up  again. 

"Are  you  ill?"  asked  Ekkehard,  sympathetically. 

"  111  ?  "  repeated  the  old  man,  —  "  it  may  be  a  sort 
of  illness!  It  has  been  visiting  me  so  long  that  it 
seems  quite  like  an  old  acquaintance.  Have  you 
ever  had  the  headache  .'*  I  advise  you  never  to  go 
out  to  battle,  when  the  headache  plagues  you;  and 
make  no  peace.  It  may  cost  you  a  realm,  that 
headache  —  " 

"  Could  not  some  physician  "  — began  Ekkehard. 

"  The  wisdom  of  physicians  has  nothing  left  to  try. 
They  have  done  their  best  for  me." 

He  pointed  to  his  forehead,  where  two  old  scars 
crossed  each  other. 

"Look  here!  —  If  they  want  you  to  try  that 
remedy,  you  must  not  do  so.  In  my  younger  days 
they  hung  me  up  by  the  feet ;  —  then  they  made  the 
cuts  in  my  head ;  they  took  away  some  blood,  and 


OLD   MAN  OF   THE   HEIDENHOHLE   20/ 

some  of  my  brains  ;  no  help !  At  Cremona  (Zede- 
kias  was  the  name  of  the  Hebrew  sage),  they  con- 
sulted the  stars,  and  placed  me  under  a  mulberry-tree 
at  midnight.  It  was  a  long  exorcism  with  which 
they  drove  the  headache  into  the  tree  ;  no  help  !  In 
the  German  lands  they  ordered  me  to  take  powdered 
crabs'  eyes,  mixed  with  some  dust  from  St.  Mark's 
grave,  and  a  draught  of  lake-wine  after  it :  ^^^  all  in 
vain !  Now  I  am  used  to  it.  The  worst  is  licked 
away  by  Mummolin's  rough  tongue.  Come  here  my 
brave  Mummolin,  who  has  never  betrayed  me  yet —  " 
He  stopped,  almost  breathless,  and  caressed  the 
dog. 

"  My  message —  "  Ekkehard  was  beginning, 
But  the  old  man  waved  his  hand  to  him, 
"Have  patience;  'tis  not  well  to  speak  on  an 
empty  stomach.  You  must  be  hungry.  Nothing  is 
more  disgraceful  and  more  holy  than  hunger, ^^^  g^id 
that  dean  of  yore,  when  his  guest-friend  ate  up  five 
of  the  six  trout  before  him  and  left  him  only  the 
smallest.  He  who  has  had  to  do  with  the  world, 
does  not  forget  that  saying.  Ranching,  prepare  our 
meal." 

Ranching  went  into  a  neighboring  closet,  which 
had  been  fitted  up  as  a  kitchen.  The  provisions 
were  kept  in  various  niches.  Soon  a  white  wreath  of 
smoke  was  curling  up  from  the  rocky  chimney  into 
the  blue  sky  and  the  work  of  the  cooking  was  done. 
A  stone  slab  served  as  table.  The  crowning  piece 
of  the  repast  was  a  pike ;  but  the  pike  was  old,  and  had 
moss  growing  on  its  head,  and  its  meat  tasted  tough 
as  leather.     Ranching  also  brought  a  jug  of  reddish 


20S  EKKEHARD 

looking  wine:  but  that  had  grown  on  the  hills  of 
Sipplingen,  which  still  enjoy  the  reputation  of  produ- 
cing the  sourest  of  all  the  sour  wines  produced  on 
the  lake.^^^  Rauching  waited  upon  them  during  the 
meal,  nor  did  he  sit  down  wdth  them. 

"What  do  you  bring  me?"  asked  the  old  man, 
when  the  meagre  repast  was  ended. 

"  Evil  tidings  ;  the  Huns  are  invading  the  country. 
Their  hoofs  will  soon  be  treading  the  Suabian  soil." 

"  Good  !  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  That  serves  you 
right.     Are  the  Normans  also  coming  again  .-*" 

"  You  speak  strangely,"  said  Ekkehard. 

The  old  man's  eyes  lighted  up.  "  And  if  enemies 
were  to  spring  up  around  you,  like  mushrooms  from  the 
ground,  you  have  deserv^ed  it,  you  and  your  masters. 
Rauching,  fill  the  glass  ;  the  Huns  are  coming,  .  .  . 
neqiie  eiibnl  Now  you  will  have  to  swallow  the 
soup,  which  your  masters  have  salted  for  3'ou.  A 
great  and  proud  empire  had  been  founded,  extending 
from  the  Ebro  to  the  Raab  and  even  up  into  the 
Danish  land ;  not  a  rat  could  have  crept  in  without 
faithful  watchmen  catching  it.  And  this,  the  great 
Kaiser  Karl  ..." 

"God  bless  him,"  interrupted  Rauching. 

"...  established  and  left  strong  and  powerful. 
The  tribes  which  together  had  once  ended  the  Roman 
supremacy  were  all  united  as  they  ought  to  be  ;  in 
those  days,  the  Hun  warily  hid  behind  his  hedge  on 
the  Danube ;  it  was  no  weather  for  him ;  and  as 
soon  as  they  tried  to  move,  their  wooden  camp-town 
in  Pannonia  was  destroyed  to  the  last  chip ;  such  a 
storm  came  on  it  with  the  Frank  yeomanry.   .  .   .  ^"^^ 


OLD   MAN  OF   THE  HEIDENH'OHLE    20g 

But  the  great  ones  in  the  home  land  began  to  feel 
that  not  everyone  of  them  could  be  the  master  of  the 
world ;  so  they  must  needs  try  the  experiment  each 
in  his  own  territory.  Sedition,  rebellion  and  hio-h- 
treason  well  suited  their  tastes ;  they  dethroned  the 
last  of  the  descendants  of  Karl  who  held  the  reins 
of  the  world.  —  The  representative  of  the  unity 
of  the  realm  has  become  a  beggar,  and  must  eat  un- 
buttered  water  gruel ;  —  and  now  your  lords  who  pre- 
ferred Arnulf,  the  bastard,  and  their  own  arrogance, 
have  the  Huns  on  their  neck,  and  the  old  times  are 
coming  back,  as  King  Etzel  had  them  painted.  Do 
you  know  the  picture  in  the  palace  at  Milan  ?  .  .   . 

"  There  the  Roman  emperor  was  painted  sitting  on 
the  throne  with  Scythian  princes  lying  at  his  feet  ; 
till  one  day  King  Etzel  came  riding  that  way,  and 
gave  a  long  and  steadfast  look  at  the  picture,  and 
laughed  and  said  :  '  Quite  right ;  only  a  small  altera- 
tion.' And  he  had  his  own  features  given  to  the 
man  on  the  throne,  and  those  who  were  kneeling 
before  him  and  pouring  out  bags  of  tributary  gold  at 
the  foot  of  his  throne  were  now  the  Roman  Caesars. 
.  .  .  The  picture  is  still  to  be  seen."  .  .  M^ 

"  You  are  thinking  of  bygone  tales,"  said  Ekkehard. 

"  Of  bygone  tales  ? "  exclaimed  the  old  man. 
"  For  me  there  has  been  nothing  new  these  last  forty 
years  but  want  and  misery.  Bygone  tales  !  'T  is 
well  for  him  who  still  remembers  them,  that  he  may 
see  how  the  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  on  the 
children  and  children's  children.  Do  you  know  why 
Charlemagne  once  in  his  life  shed  tears?  '  As  long  as  I 
live,'  said  he,  —  when  they  announced  to  him  the 
VOL.  I. —  14 


210  EKKEHARD 

arrival  of  the  Norman  sea-robbers, —  '  't  is  mere  child's 
play,  but  I  grieve  for  my  grandsons.' "  i'*^ 

"  We  still  have  an  emperor  and  a  realm,"  said 
Ekkehard. 

"  Have  you  one  still?  "  said  the  old  man,  draining 
his  glass  of  sour  Sipplinger,  and  shaking  himself, 
"  I  wish  him  joy.  The  corner-stones  are  dashed  to 
pieces ;  the  building  is  crumbling  away.  With 
presumptuous  nobles  no  realm  can  exist.  Those  who 
ought  to  obey  rule  ;  and  he  who  ought  to  reign,  has 
to  wheedle  and  flatter,  instead  of  commanding.  I 
have  heard  of  one,  to  whom  his  faithful  subjects  sent 
the  tribute  in  pebbles  instead  of  silver,  and  the  head 
of  the  count  who  was  sent  to  collect  it  lay  in  the  bag. 
Who  has  avenged  it  ?  " 

"  The  emperor  is  fighting  and  winning  great  glory 
in  Italy,"  rejoined  Ekkehard. 

"  Oh  Italy  !  Italy  !  ''  continued  the  old  man.  "  That 
will  yet  be  a  thorn  in  the  German  flesh.  That  was 
the  only  time  the  great   Karl  .  .  ." 

"  May  God  bless  him,"  interrupted  Ranching. 

"...  allowed  himself  to  be  entrapped.  It  was  a 
sad  day  when  they  cpowned  him  at  Rome  ;  and  no 
one  laughed  so  gleefully  as  he  on  St.  Peter's  chair. 
He  stood  in  need  of  us,  —  but  what  have  we  to  do 
with  Italy.?  Look  there!  Was  that  mountain-wall 
built  heaven-high  for  nothing  ?  —  All  that  lies  on  the 
other  side  belongs  to  those  in  Byzantium  ;  and  it  is 
all  right  so,  for  Greek  cunning  is  better  there  than 
German  strength ;  but  the  successors  of  Charle- 
magne have  found  nothing  better  to  do  than  to 
perpetuate  his  mistake.     The  good  example  he  left 


OLD  MAN  OF   THE   HEIDENHOHLE    211 

them  they  have  trampled  on.  There  was  plenty  to 
do  in  the  East  and  North,  but  they  must  needs  run 
off  to  Italy,  as  if  the  great  lodestone  lay  in  the 
mountain  back  of  Rome.  I  have  often  pondered 
over  it;  what  could  have  driven  us  in  that  false 
direction  ;  if  it  was  not  the  Devil  himself,  it  can  only 
have  been  the  good  wine."  i'^^ 

Ekkehard  had  become  saddened  by  the  old  man's 
speeches.     He  seemed  to  perceive  it. 

"  Do  not  regard  what  a  buried  man  tells  you,"  said 
he.  "  We  here  in  the  Heidenhohle  cannot  help  it ; 
but  the  Truth  has  many  a  time  taken  up  her  abode 
in  caverns ;  whilst  Folly  was  striding  at  a  great  pace 
through  the  land." 

"  A  buried  man  ?  "  said  Ekkehard  inquiringly. 

"  You  may  for  all  that  drink  a  bumper  with  him," 
jestingly  replied  the  old  man.  "It  was  necessary 
that  I  should  be  dead  to  the  world;  for  the  head- 
ache and  the  rascals  had  brought  me  into  dishonor. 
That  is  no  reason  why  you  should  stare  at  me  so, 
little  monk.  Sit  down  here  on  the  stone  bench  and 
I  will  tell  you  a  pretty  story  and  you  can  make  a 
song  of  it  to  play  on  the  lute.  .  .  . 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  an  emperor  who 
had  few  happy  days;  for  his  realm  was  large  and 
he  himself  was  big  and  stout,  and  the  headache  tor- 
mented him  from  the  day  that  he  mounted  the 
throne.  Therefore  he  took  unto  himself  a  chan- 
cellor who  had  a  fine  head  and  could  think  better 
than  his  master,  for  he  was  thin  and  lean  like  a  pole, 
and  had  no  headache.  The  emperor  had  raised  him 
from   the  obscurity  of   his  origin,  for   he   was   the 


212  EKKEHARD 

son  of  a  blacksmith ;  and  he  bestowed  favors  on 
him  and  followed  his  advice  in  everything  and  even 
concluded  a  miserable  peace  with  the  Normans; 
for  his  chancellor  told  him  that  this  was  an  insig- 
nificant affair  and  that  he  had  more  important 
things  to  do  than  to  worry  himself  about  a  handful 
of  pirates.  At  the  same  time,  the  chancellor  went  to 
the  emperor's  consort  and  beguiled  her  w^eak  heart 
and  occupied  her  time  with  lute  playing.  Moreover 
he  had  the  daughters  of  some  noble  Allemannians 
misled ;  and  he  joined  in  a  league  with  the  em- 
peror's enemies.  And  when  at  last  the  emperor 
called  together  a  great  diet  to  remedy  the  state  of 
affairs,  his  gaunt  chancellor  was  among  the  fore- 
most who  spoke  against  him.  With  the  words, 
'  neque  eniin^^  he  began  his  speech,  and  he  argued 
that  they  must  dethrone  their  emperor;  and  he 
spoke  so  venomously  and  treacherously  against  the 
Norman  peace  which  he  had  himself  concluded, — 
that  they  all  fell  off  from  their  master,  like  withered 
leaves  when  the  autumn  winds  shake  the  tree.  And 
they  cried  that  the  time  for  the  stout  one  was  at  an 
end ;  and  then  and  there  they  deposed  him  ;  he  had 
entered  Tribur  as  emperor,  with  a  threefold  crown 
on  his  head;  when  he  went  away  he  had  nothing 
that  he  could  call  his  own  but  what  he  wore  on  his 
back;  and  at  Mainz  he  sat  before  the  Bishop's 
castle,  and  was  glad  when  they  presented  him  with 
a  dish  of  soup  out  of  the  slide.  The  excellent  chan- 
cellor's name  was  Luitward  of  \''ercelli.  May  God 
reward  him  according  to  his  deserts,  and  the  Em- 
press Richardis  also  and  the  rest  of  them,  like- 
wise. ^^^ 


OLD   MAN  OF   THE   HEIDENH'OHLE   213 

"  But  when  later  the  people  in  Suabia  took  pity 
on  the  poor  outlaw,  and  gave  him  a  little  bit  of 
land  whereby  his  life  might  be  preserved;  and  when 
they  thought  of  sending  an  army  to  fight  for  his 
rights,  then  Luitward  dispatched  assassins  against 
him.  It  was  a  fine  night  at  the  Neidinger  Hof,  the 
storm  was  breaking  the  branches  of  the  trees,  and 
the  shutters  were  rattling  violently.  The  dethroned 
emperor  could  not  sleep  for  his  headache  and  had 
mounted  on  the  roof  to  let  the  storm  cool  his  burn- 
ing forehead,  when  they  broke  in  to  murder  him. 
It  is  a  pleasant  feeling  I  tell  you,  to  sit  in  the  cold 
night-air  on  the  roof,  with  a  heavy  aching  head,"  and 
hear  how  people  downstairs  are  regretting  that  they 
can  not  strangle  you,  or  hang  you  over  the  draw- 
well.  .  .   . 

"  He  who  has  experienced  that,  had  best  die  at 
once. 

"  And  the  stout  Meginhart  at  Neidingen  had  fallen 
down  from  a  tree  and  was  killed  just  at  the  right 
time,  so  that  they  could  lay  him  -on  the  bier,  and 
spread  the  news  in  the  land  that  the  dethroned 
emperor  had  paid  his  tribute  to  grim  King  Death. 
They  say  that  it  was  a  fine  procession,  when  they 
carried  him  to  the  Reichenau.  The  Heavens 
opened,  a  ray  of  light  fell  on  the  bier ;  and  they  had 
a  touching  oration  when  they  lowered  him  into  the 
vault  on  the  right  side  of  the  altar.  '  That  he 
had  been  stript  of  his  honor,  and  bereft  of  his  king- 
dom, was  a  trial  imposed  by  Heaven  to  cleanse  and 
purify  his  soul,  and  as  he  bore  it  patiently,  it  is  to 
be  hoped  that  the  Lord  rewarded  him  with  the  crown 


214  EKKEHARD 

of  eternal  life,  to  comfort  him  for  the  earthly  crown 
which  he  had  lost '  .  .  .  Thus  they  preached  in  the 
monastery  church,  ^°*^  not  knowing  that  at  that  same 
hour  he  whom  they  thought  they  were  burying  was 
entering  the  solitude  of  the  Heidenhohle  with  pack 
and  sack  and  a  curse  for  the  world.  .  .  ." 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"  Here  it  is  safe  and  quiet  enough  to  think  of  old 
times.  Let 's  drink  a  bumper !  Long  hfe  to  the 
dead  !  And  Luitward  has  been  cheated  after  all ; 
for  though  his  emperor  wears  an  old  hat  instead  of 
a  golden  crown,  and  drinks  Sipplinger  instead  of 
the  sparkling  Rhinewine,  he  is  still  alive ;  while  the 
lean  ones  and  all  their  race  are  dead.  And  the 
stars  will  prove  right  after  all ;  at  his  birth  it  was 
read  in  them  that  he  would  leave  this  false  world 
in  the  roar  of  battle.  The  Huns  are  coming !  .  .  . 
Oh,  come  thou  also  soon,  thou  joyful  end ! " 

Ekkehard  had  listened  with  the  utmost  excite- 
ment. "  Oh  Lord,  how  wonderful  are  Thy  ways," 
he  exclaimed,  attempting  to  kneel  down  and  kiss  the 
old  man's  hands;  but  he  prevented  him,  saying: 
"  All  that  sort  of  thfng  has  been  done  away  with. 
Take  an  example  ..." 

"  Germany  has  greatly  wronged  you,  and  your 
race,"  Ekkehard  was  beginning  to  say. 

"  Germany  !  "  interrupted  the  old  man,  "  I  bear  her 
no  grudge.  May  she  prosper  and  flourish,  undis- 
turbed by  enemies  ;  and  find  some  ruler  who  will 
make  her  powerful  again  ;  and  who  is  not  plagued  with 
the  headache  when  the  Normans  come  back  :  and  not 
have  a  chancellor  whose  name   is  Luitward  of  Ver- 


OLD   MAN  OF   THE   HEIDENHOHLE    21 5 

celli.  But  those  who  have  divided  her  garments 
amongst  them  ;    and  cast  lots  for  her  vesture.  ..." 

"  May  Heaven  punish  them  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone," ^^^  said  Rauching  in  the  background. 

"  What  answer  shall  I  give  to  my  mistress  from 
you?"  asked  Ekkehard,  after  having  finished  his 
beaker. 

"With  regard  to  the  Huns?"  said  the  old  man. 
"  I  believe  that  is  simple  enough.  Tell  your  duchess 
to  go  into  the  woods  and  see  what  the  hedgehog 
does,  when  an  enemy  is  coming  too  near.  It  rolls 
itself  up  into  a  ball  and  presents  its  quills ;  and 
he  who  lays  hands  on  it,  is  wounded.  Suabia  has 
plenty  of  lances.  Do  the  same  !  —  It  will  not  hurt 
you  monks  either  to  carry  the  spear. 

"  And  if  your  mistress  wishes  to  know  still  more  ; 
then  you  may  tell  her  the  old  saw  which  rules  in  the 
Heidenhohle.     Rauching,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Keep  off  two  paces,  or  we  split  your  skull,"  he 
replied. 

"  And  if  there  should  be  a  question  of  peace,  then 
tell  her  that  the  old  man  of  the  Heidenhohle  once 
concluded  a  bad  one,  and  that  he  would  never  do  so 
again  even  though  his  headache  is  as  bad  as  it  used 
to  be  ;  and  that  he  would  much  rather  saddle  his  own 
horse  if  the  war-trumpets  sound.  —  You  may  say  a 
mass  for  him,  if  you  outlive  his  last  ride." 

The  old  man  had  spoken  with  a  strange  excitement. 
Suddenly  his  voice  broke  off;  his  breath  became 
short,  almost  groaning,  he   bent  his  head. 

"  It  is  coming  on  again,"  he  said. 

Rauching,  the  serving-man,  sprang  to  his  aid  and 


2l6  EKKEHARD 

presented  him  with  a  draught  of  water;  but  the 
oppression   did    not   subside. 

"  We  must  try  the  remedy,"  said  Rauching.  He 
rolled  out  from  a  corner  of  the  chamber  a  heavy 
block  of  stone,  about  a  man's  height,  bearing  some 
traces  of  sculpture.  They  had  found  it  in  the  cavern  ; 
a  mystic  memorial  of  former  inhabitants.  He  placed 
it  upright  against  the  wall.  A  human  head  and  a 
bishop's  mitre  seemed  to  be  represented  on  it. 
Rauching  now  seized  a  thick,  knotty  stick,  and  pla- 
cing another  in  the  hands  of  the  old  man,  began 
thrashing  away  at  the  stone  image  and  pronouncing 
slowly  and  solemnly  the  following  words  like  a  litany. 

"  Luitward  of  Vercelli !  Traitor,  adulterer,  7ieque 
enijn  !  Ravisher  of  nuns  and  foul  rebel,  neqite  enwi  !  " 

Heavily  fell  the  blows,  then  a  faint  smile  lighted 
up  the  old  man's  withered  features.  He  arose  and 
also  with  feeble  arms  began  striking  away  at  it. 

"  It  has  been  written,  that  a  bishop  must  lead  a 
blameless  life,"  said  he  in  the  same  tone  as  Rauching, 
—  "  take  this  for  the  peace  with  the  Normans !  This 
for  the  seduction  of  the  Empress  Richardis,  tieque 
etiitn  I  This  for  the, diet  at  Tribur,  and  this  for  the 
election  of  Arnulf  !  neqiie  enim  !  " 

The  cavern  rang  with  the  resounding  blows ;  im- 
movable stood  the  stone  image  under  the  fierce 
attacks.  The  old  man  became  more  and  more  re- 
lieved ;  he  warmed  himself  by  the  old  hatred  which  for 
years  had  nourished  his  miserable  life. 

Ekkehard  did  not  quite  understand  the  meaning 
of  what  he  saw.  There  was  something  uncanny 
about  it.     He  took  his  leave. 


OLD  MAN  OF  THE  HEIDENHOHLE   21/ 

"  Have  you  been  enjoying  yourself  with  the  old 
fool  up  there  ?  "  inquired  the  steward  of  Sernatingen 
to  him,  when  he  brought  out  his  saddled  horse. 
"Does  he  still  believe,  that  he  has  lost  a  crown  and 
a  kingdom  ?     Ha,  ha  !  "  i^- 

Ekkehard  rode  away.  In  the  beech-wood  the 
young  green  of  the  coming  Spring  was  burgeon- 
ning.  A  young  monk  from  the  Reichenau  was  going 
the  same  road.  Defiant  as  the  clash  of  arms  floated 
his  song  through  the  solitary  wood  : 

Gallant  yoicth,  warlike  braves^  hark  !  your  country  calls. 
Loud  let  your  sofigsbe  heard  through  the  city  walls  I 
Watch  night  and  day  in  arms  !  Swift  the  onset  falls  : 
Snakclike  around  your  homes  hostile  cunning  crawls. 
Bid  the  echoes  then  resound:  eia  vigila  ! 
From  tower  to  tower  rebound  the  shout :  eia  vigila  !  1^3 

It  was  the  song  which  the  night-guards  sang  at 
Mutina  in  Italy,  while  the  Huns  lay  before  the 
Bishop's  town.  The  monk  himself  had  stood  three 
years  before  on  guard  at  the  gate  of  St.  Geminianus, 
and  well  knew  the  hissing  of  the  Hunnic  arrows  ; 
when  a  presentiment  of  new  battles  is  in  the  air,  the 
old  songs  rise  again  in  the  minds  of  men. 


21 8  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    APPROACH    OF    THE    HUNS. 


Ekkehard  reported  to  her  the  result  of  his  mission. 
"If  the  enemy  threatens,  get  ready.  If  he  attacks, 
beat  him  ;  that  is  so  simple  that  one  really  need  not 
ask  anyone's  advice.  I  believe  that  the  habit  of  long 
thinking  and  weighing  chances  has  been  sown  by 
the  evil  one  like  a  weed  in  the  German  lands.  He 
who  doubts  is  near  falling ;  and  he  who  misses  the 
right  moment,  often  digs  his  own  grave.  We  will 
get  ready." 

The  exciting  and  dangerous  position  put  the 
duchess  into  high  spirits ;  just  as  trout  delight  in  the 
turbulent  brook  that  rushes  foaming  over  rocks  and 
ledges,  while  they  sicken  in  a  still  lake.  And  example 
of  courage  and  energy  given  by  one  in  power  is 
never  lost.  So  they  were  all  busy,  making  prepara- 
tions for  the  reception  of  the  enemy. 

From  the  tower  on  the  Hohentwiel  waved  the  war- 
flag,  visible  at  a  great  distance ;  ^^^  through  forests 
and  fields  unto  the  remotest  farm-steads  hidden  in 
lonely  mountain-glens,  was  heard  the  war-trumpet, 
calling  together  all  those  capable  of  bearing  arms; 
poverty  alone  freed  any  one  from  military  service. 
Every  man  possessing  more  than  two  acres  of  land 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      219 

was  obliged  to  place  himself  under  arms  and  to  pre- 
sent himself  at  the  first  call.  The  Hohentwiel  was 
to  be  head-quarters ;  nature  herself  had  made  it  a 
fortress.  Messengers  were  flying  through  the  Hegau ; 
The  land  began  to  stir.  Back  among  the  dark  fir- 
woods  the  charcoal-burners  had  formed  a  corps. 

One  of  them  swung  a  heavy  poker  over  his  head, 
as  if  about  to  strike  down  an  enemy.  "  This  will  do," 
said  he,  "  I  also  will  go  with  the  rest." 

At  the  doors  of  the  priests  and  at  those  of  the  old 
and  sick  the  messengers  also  knocked.  Those  who 
can  not  fight  are  to  pray.  The  tidings  penetrated 
to  all  the  shores  of  the  lake  ;  even  to  St.  Gall. 

Ekkehard  went  to  the  peaceful  island  of  Reichenau ; 
the  duchess  required  it  of  him.  This  mission  would 
have  been  distasteful  to  him  if  the  reason  for  it 
had  been  different.  He  carried  an  invitation  to  the 
brotherhood  to  come  to  the  Hohentwiel  in  case 
of  danger. 

There,  he  found  everything  already  in  a  state  of 
excitement.  The  brothers  were  promenading  beside 
the  fountain  in  the  monastery  garden  :  it  was  a  mild 
spring  day;  but  not  one  of  them  was  seriously  thinking 
of  enjoying  the  blue  sky.  They  were  talking  of  the 
evil  times  and  holding  counsel.  The  idea  of  leav- 
ing their  quiet  cells  did  not  appear  to  please  them 
at  all. 

"St.  Mark,"  one  of  them  had  said,  "will  protect 
his  disciples  and  strike  the  enemy  with  blindness 
so  that  they  will  ride  past ;  or  he  will  raise  the 
waves  of  the  Bodensee  to  devour  them,  as  the  Red 
Sea  swallowed  up  the  Egyptians." 


220  EKKEHARD 

But  old  Simon  Bardo  replied  :  "  This  calculation 
is  not  quite  safe  ;  and  when  a  place  is  not  fortified 
by  towers  and  walls,  a  retreat  remains  the  better 
plan.  Wherever  a  shilling's  worth  is  still  to  be  got, 
no  Hun  will  ride  by  ;  if  you  put  a  gold-piece  on  the 
grave  of  a  dead  one,  his  hand  will  grow  out  of  the 
earth  to  seize  it." 

"  Holy  Pirminius  !  "  lamented  the  gardener.  "  Who 
will  tend  the  fruit  and  vegetable  garden,  if  we  must 
go?" 

"  And  the  chickens,"  said  another,  whose  chief 
delight  was  in  the  poultry-yard .?  "  Did  we  buy  the 
three  dozen  turkeys  merely  for  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  Supposing  one  were  to  write  an  urgent  letter  to 
them,"  suggested  a  third.  "  They  surely  cannot  be 
such  barbarians  as  to  offend  God  and  His  saints." 

Simon  Bardo  smiled.  "  Go  and  be  a  shepherd,"  said 
he,  compassionately,  "  and  drink  a  decoction  of  camo- 
mile, thou  who  wouldst  write  urgent  letters  to  the 
Huns  !  Oh  that  I  had  brought  my  old  chief-firework- 
maker  Kedrenos  over  the  Alps  with  me !  Then  we 
should  send  out  a  light  against  the  enemy,  brighter 
than  the  mild  moonshine  in  the  flower-garden  which 
called  up  such  tender  recollections  of  his  sweet  friend 
in  the  soul  of  the  late  Abbot  Walafrid.^^s  There  on 
the  point  a  couple  of  ships  sunk,  here  at  the  har- 
bor the  same ;  the  whole  shore  commanded  by  our 
long  fire-tubes.  Hei  !  How  they  would  be  scattered 
asunder  when  our  missiles  should  fly  through  the 
air  like  fiery  dragons,  pouring  down  a  rain  of  burn- 
ing naphtha  !  But  what  does  any  one  of  you  know 
about  the  Greek  fire  !  ^^^  O  Kedrenos,  firework- 
maker  Kedrenos  !  " 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      221 

Ekkehard  had  entered  the  monastery.  He  asked 
for  the  abbot.  A  serving-brother  showed  him  up  to 
his  apartments,  but  he  was  not  there  ;  nor  was  he 
to  be  found  elsewhere. 

"  He  is  most  Hkely  to  be  in  the  armory,"  said  a 
monk  passing  by.  So  the  serving  brother  led  Ekke- 
hard to  the  armory.  It  was  situated  high  up  in  the 
granary.  Quantities  of  arms  and  harness  were 
heaped  up  ;  with  these  the  monastery  was  furnishing 
its  warriors  for  the  arriere-ban. 

Abbot  Wazmann  was  standing  there,  but  a  cloud 
of  dust  veiled  him  from  the  visitor's  sight.  He  had 
been  having  the  armor  taken  down  from  the  walls 
and  examined.  Dust  and  rust  bore  witness  to  its  hav- 
ing rested  for  a  long  while.  During  the  examination 
the  abbot  had  not  forgotten  to  provide  for  himself. 
His  upper  garment  lay  on  the  ground  before  him ; 
and  in  its  place  a  fair-haired  monastery-pupil  had 
helped  him  don  a  coat  of  mail.  He  was  now 
stretching  out  his  arms  to  see  whether  it  fitted  him 
tightly  and  comfortably. 

"  Come  nearer  !  "  he  cried,  on  seeing  Ekkehard. 
"  The  reception  is  fitted  to  the  times !  " 

Ekkehard  gave  him  the  duchess's  invitation. 

"  I  myself  should  have  sought  for  refuge  on  the 
Hohentwiel,"  replied  the  abbot,  "if  you  had  not 
come."  He  had  seized  a  long  sword,  and  made  a 
cut  in  the  air  with  it,  so  that  Ekkehard  started  back 
a  pace  or  two.  From  the  sharp  whizzing  sound 
which  it  produced,  one  could  tell  that  it  was  not  the 
first  sword  that  he  had  ever  wielded. 

"  'T  is  getting  serious,"  said  he.     "  At  Altdorf,  in 


222  EKKEHARD 

the  Schussenthal,  the  Huns  have  ah-eady  effected 
their  entrance ,  we  shall  soon  see  the  flames  of 
Lindau  reflected  n  the  lake.  Won't  you  choose  an 
armor  for  yourself  also  ?  That  one  yonder  with  the 
shoulder-strap  will  take  every  blow  or  thrust  as  well 
as  the  finest  linen  shirt  ever  spun  by  a  virgin. 

Ekkehard  declined  it.  He  went  down,  accom- 
panied by  the  abbot,  who  was  pleased  with  his  coat 
of  mail.  He  threw  his  brown  habit  over  it,  and  so, 
like  a  true  champion  of  the  Lord,^^'  he  made  his 
appearance  amongst  the  anxious  brotherhood  still 
delaying  in  the  garden. 

"  St.  Mark  appeared  to  me  last  night,"  cried  the 
abbot.  "  He  pointed  to  the  Hohentwiel.  '  Thither 
shall  you  bring  my  remains,  that  no  heathen  hands 
may  desecrate  them,'  he  said.  Be  up  and  ready  ! 
By  prayers  and  fasting  your  souls  have  fought  to  the 
present  moment  with  the  Evil  One :  but  now  your 
fists  are  to  prove  that  ye  are  warriors  indeed ;  for 
those  who  come  are  the  sons  of  the  Devil.  Witches 
and  demons  begot  them  in  the  Asiatic  deserts.  All 
their  doings  are  vile  wickedness,  and  when  their  time 
comes  they  will  all  go. back  to  hell !  "  ^^^ 

Now  even  the  most  careless  of  the  brothers  became 
convinced  that  danger  was  near.  A  murmur  of 
approbation  ran  through  the  ranks :  the  cultivation 
of  science  had  not  yet  made  them  so  effeminate  but 
that  they  looked  on  a  warlike  expedition  as  a  very 
desirable  pastime. 

Leaning  against  an  apple-tree  stood  Rudimann 
the  cellarer,  an  ominous  frown  on  his  brow.  Ekke- 
hard caught  sight  of  him,  went  up  to  him,  and  at- 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      223 

tempted  to  embrace  him,  as  a  sign  that  common 
calamity  was  wiping  out  the  old  quarrel ;  but  Rudi- 
mann  waved  him  off,  saying  :  — 

"  I  "know  what  you  mean." 

Out  of  the  seam  of  his  cowl  he  drew  a  coarse 
thread  and  threw  it  to  the  ground,  and  placed  his 
foot  on  it. 

"  So  long  as  a  Hunnic  horse  is  treading  German 
ground,"  said  he,  "  all  enmity  shall  be  torn  out  of  my 
heart,  as  this  thread  is  out  of  my  garment ;  ^^^  but 
if  we  outlive  the  coming  battles,  we  will  take  it  up 
again,  as  it  were  meet." 

He  turned  round  and  descended  into  his  cellar, 
there  to  attend  to  important  business.  The  large 
tuns  lay  there  under  the  arched  vaults  in  due  order, 
as  it  were  in  battle  array ;  and  not  one  of  them 
sounded  hollow  when  struck.  Rudimann  had  sum- 
moned some  masons,  and  now  he  was  busy  super- 
intending the  arrangement  of  a  small  antechamber, 
which  generally  served  for  the  keeping  of  fruit  and 
vegetables,  so  that  it  might  seem  to  be  the  cloister- 
cellar.  Two  small  casks,  and  one  larger  one,  were 
put  there.  "If  the  enemy  finds  nothing,  he  be- 
comes suspicious,"  said  the  cellarer  to  himself: 
"  and  if  the  choice  Sipplinger  which  I  sacrifice  only 
does  its  duty,  many  a  Hun  will  find  some  difficulty 
in  continuing  his  journey." 

The  masons  had  already  got  the  square  stones 
ready  to  wall  up  the  inner  cellar  door,  when  Rudi- 
mann once  more  stepped  in.  From  an  old  weather- 
beaten  tun  he  drew  a  small  jug  full,  and  emptied  it 
with  a  most  melancholy  expression. 


224  EKKEHARD 

Then  he  folded  his  hands  as  in  prayer. 

"  May  God  protect  thee,  red  wine  of  INIeers- 
burg  !  "  said  he. 

Tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  .  .   . 

In  all  parts  of  the  monastery  busy  hands  were  at 
work.  In  the  armory  they  were  distributing  the 
harness  and  arms.  There  were  many  heads  and 
few  helmets.  Then  much  of  the  leather-work  was 
in  a  dilapidated  condition,  and  had  to  be  repaired. 

In  the  treasury  the  abbot  was  superintending 
the  packing  up  of  precious  articles  and  holy  relics. 
Many  heavy  boxes  were  thus  filled.  The  golden 
cross  with  the  holy  blood ;  the  white  marble  vase 
which  had  once  held  the  wine  at  the  marriage  of 
Cana ;  cofiins  with  the  remains  of  martyrs;  the 
abbot's  staff,  the  pyx,  —  all  were  carefully  packed 
up,  and  brought  over  to  the  ships.  Some  were  also 
carrying  off  the  heavy  translucent  emerald  ;  twenty- 
eight  pounds  it  weighed ! 

"  You  may  leave  the  emerald  behind,"'  said  the 
abbot. 

"  The  parting  gift  of  the  great  Emperor  Karl  ? 
The  rarest  jewel  of  the  cathedral?  Another  such  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  depths  of  the  mountains !  " 
exclaimed  the  serving  brother. 

"  I  know  a  glass-maker  in  A'enetia  who  can  easily 
make  another,  if  the  Huns  should  carry  this  one 
away,"  ^^  carelessly  repHed  the  abbot.  So  they  put 
the  jewel  back  into  the  cupboard. 

Before  evening  had  set  in,  everything  was  ready 
for  the  departure.  The  abbot  commanded  the 
brothers  to  assemble  in  the  courtyard.  All  ap- 
peared, with  the  exception  of  one. 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE  HUNS      225 

"Where  is  Heribald?"   he  asked. 

Heribald  was  a  pious  brother  whose  ways  had 
many  a  time  turned  despondency  ^^^  into  hilarity. 
In  his  infancy  his  nurse  had  let  him  fall  on  the 
stone  floor,  and  in  consequence  he  had  a  weakness 
of  mind,  a  Kopfsiiuiieriuig^  —  or  softening  of  the 
brain,  —  but  he  possessed  a  good  heart,  and  took 
as  much  delight  in  God's  beautiful  world  as  any 
stronger-minded  being. 

So  they  went  to  look  for  Heribald.  He  was  in 
his  cell.  The  yellow-brown  monastery  cat  seemed 
to  have  offended  him  in  some  way;  he  had  fastened 
round  her  body  the  cord  which  generally  served  him 
as  a  girdle,  and  hung  her  up  on  a  nail  in  the  ceil- 
ing. The  poor  old  animal,  thus  suspended,  hung  in 
the  air,  yelling  and  mewing  pitifully;  but  he  was 
rocking  her  gently  to  and  fro,  and  talking  Latin  to 
her. 

"Come,  on  Heribald!  "  called  out  his  companions. 
"  We  must  leave  the  island." 

"  Let  him  fly  who  will,"  replied  the  imbecile. 
"  Heribald  won't  go  away." 

"Be  good,  Heribald,  and  follow  us;  the  abbot 
commands  you." 

Then  Heribald  pulled  off  his  shoe,  and  held  it  out 
to  the  brothers. 

"  Last  year  this  shoe  was  torn,"  said  he.  "  Then 
Heribald  went  to  the  canierariiis :  '  Give  me  my 
yearly  portion  of  leather,'  said  Heribald,  'that  I  may 
make  myself  a  new  pair  of  shoes.'  But  the  came- 
rarius  replied.:  '  If  thou  didst  not  tread  thy  shoes 
all  awry,  then  they  would  not  split,'  and  he  refused 
VOL.  I. —  15 


226  EKKEHARD 

the  leather;  and  when  Heribald  complained  of  the 
camcj-arius  to  the  abbot,  he  said,  '  A  fool  like  thee 
can  well  go  barefoot.'  Now  Heribald  has  no  decent 
shoes  to  put  on ;  and  he  will  not  go  among  strangers 
with  torn  ones."  ^^^  .  .  . 

Such  sound  reasons  could  not  well  be  argued 
away;  so  the  brothers  seized  him  to  carry  him  off 
by  force ;  but  in  the  corridor  Heribald  broke  away 
from  them  and  rushed,  swift  as  the  wind,  down  into 
the  church,  and  up  the  stairs  that  led  to  the  belfry. 
When  he  had  reached  the  very  top,  he  drew  up  the 
small  wooden  ladder  after  him;  there  was  no  way 
of  getting  at  him. 

They  reported  the  matter  to  the  abbot.  "  Leave 
him  behind,"  said  he.  "  Children  and  fools  are  pro- 
tected by  a  guardian  angel  of  their  own." 

Two  large  barges  lay  waiting  at  the  shore,  to 
receive  the  fugitives.  They  were  strong,  well-built 
ships,  furnished  with  oars  and  masts.  In  small 
boats  sailed  the  serving  people,  and  whoever  else 
lived  on  the  Reichenau,  with  all  their  goods  and 
chattels.     It  was  a  confused  medley. 

One  bark,  filled  with  maid-servants  and  com- 
manded by  Kerhildis  the  upper  maid,  had  already 
started  off,  —  they  did  not  themselves  know  where 
they  were  bound  for ;  but  this  time  fear  was  stronger 
than  their  curiosity  to  see  the  mustaches  of  strange 
warriors. 

And  now  the  brotherhood  came  down  to  the  shore; 
it  was  a  strange  sight.  The  majority,  armed,  were 
chanting  the  litany,  others  carrying  the  coffin  of  St. 
Mark ;  the  abbot,  with  Ekkehard,  walking  at  the  head 


THE   APPROACH   OF   THE  HUNS      22/ 

of  the  monastery  pupils.  Sorrowfully  they  looked 
back  for  the  last  time  toward  the  home  where 
they  had  spent  so  many  years;  then  they  went  on 
board. 

•But  as  soon  as  they  were  fairly  out  on  the  lake,  all 
the  bells  began  to  peal.  The  weak-minded  Heribald 
was  ringing  a  farewell  greeting  to  them.  Then  he 
appeared  on  the  top  of  the  cathedral  tower.  He 
shouted,  "  Dominus  vobisctim,''''  with  a  powerful 
voice,  and  here  and  there  some  of  the  monks  re- 
sponded in  the  accustomed  way:  — 

"  Et  cum  spiritii  iuo.''' 

A  keen  breeze  was  curling  the  waves  of  the  lake, 
which  had  only  lately  thawed.  Many  large  ice- 
'blocks  were  still  floating  about,  so  that  the  ships 
often  had  great  difificulty  in  making  their  way  through 
them. 

The  monks  who  had  charge  of  St.  Mark's  coffin 
cowered  down,  —  sometimes  the  waves  dashed  into 
their  boat;  but  bold  and  erect  Abbot  Wazmann's 
tall  figure  towered  above  the  rest,  his  habit  fluttering 
in  the  wind. 

"  The  Lord  is  at  our  head,"  said  he,  "  as  he  was 
in  the  fiery  pillar  before  the  people  of  Israel.  He  is 
with  us  on  our  flight,  and  he  will  be  with  us  in  the 
hour  of  our  happy  return." 

In'  a  clear  moonlight  night  the  monks  of  the 
Reichenau  ascended  the  Hohentwiel.  There  every- 
thing was  in  readiness  for  their  reception.  In  the 
castle  chapel  they  deposited  the  coffin  of  their  saint; 
six  of  the  brothers  were  ordered  to  stay  beside  it, 
watching  and  praying. 


228  EKKEHARD 

During  the  next  days  the  courtyard  was  trans- 
formed into  a  bustUng  bivouac.  Several  hundred 
armed  vassals  were  already  assembled,  and  rein- 
forcements from  the  Reichenau  brought  ninety  more 
combatants.  They  were  all  zealously  preparing  for 
the  coming  contest.  Long  before  sunrise  the  ham- 
mering of  the  blacksmiths  awakened  the  sleepers. 
They  were  making  arrows  and  spearheads.  Near 
the  fountain  in  the  court  stood  the  big  grind-stone, 
on  which  the  rusty  blades  were  sharpened.  The  old 
basketmaker  of  Weiterdingen  had  also  been  fetched 
up,  and  was  sitting  with  his  boys  under  the  linden- 
tree,  covering  the  long  boards  destined  for  shields 
with  a  strong  wickerwork  of  willow  branches.  Over 
this  a  tanned  skin  was  nailed,  and  the  shield  was 
complete. 

Round  a  merry  fire  sat  others,  melting  lead  to 
make  sharp-pointed  missiles  for  the  slings.  Ashen 
bludgeons  and  clubs  were  hardened  in  the  flames. ^^^ 

"  If  one  of  these  knocks  at  the  skull  of  a  heathen," 
said  Rudimann,  swinging  a  heavy  club  over  his  head, 
"it  is  sure  to  be  admitted." 

All  who  had  ever  served  in  the  arriere-ban  rallied 
round  Simon  Bardo,  the  Greek  field-marshal.  "A 
man  who  wants  to  pass  his  old  days  in  peace  must 
come  to  Germany,"  he  had  jestingly  said  to  the 
duchess;  but  the  clatter  of  arms  strengthened  his 
courage,  like  old  Rhinewine,  and  put  new  vigor  into 
him.  With  untiring  zeal  he  drilled  those  who  were 
inexperienced  in  the  use  of  arms;  the  stone  flags  of 
the  courtyard  resounded  with  the  heavy  tramp  of  the 
monks  who  in  closed  ranks  were  learning  the  art 
of  a  spear-attack. 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      229 

"  With  you  when  once  your  blood  is  up  one  could 
verily  knock  down  walls,"  said  the  old  soldier  with 
an  approving  nod. 

Those  of  the  younger  men  who  possessed  a  good 
eye  and  flexible  sinews  were  enlisted  among  the 
archers.  These  also  practised  industriously.  Once 
the  spearmen  heard  a  loud  huzza  at  the  other  end  of 
the  courtyard :  the  wild  fellows  had  manufactured  a 
straw  figure  ;  it  wore  a  crown  of  owl's  feathers,  and 
held  a  six-corded  whip  in  its  hand.  A  small  piece 
of  red  cloth  in  the  shape  of  a  heart,  fastened  in 
front,  was  the  mark. 

"  Etzel,  the  king  of  the  Huns  !  "  cried  the  archers. 
"  Who  can  hit  him  right  in  the  heart?  " 

"  Make  what  sport  you  will,"  said  Frau  Hadwig, 
who  was  looking  down  from  her  balcony,  "but 
though  on  an  evil  bridal  night  Death  laid  him  low, 
his  spirit  still  lives  on  in  the  world ;  even  those  who 
come  after  us  will  have  trouble  enough  to  banish  the 
memory  of  him." 

"  If  only  they  could  shoot  at  him  as  well  as  they 
are  doing  down  there  now  !  "  said  Praxedis,  as  a  tri- 
umphant shout  was  heard  from  the  courtyard.  The 
straw  man  tottered  and  fell ;  an  arrow  had  pierced 
the  heart. 

Ekkehard  came  up  to  the  hall.  He  had  been 
drilling  with  the  others;  his  face  was  aglow;  the 
helmet  had  left  a  red  stripe  on  his  forehead.  In  the 
excitement  of  the  moment  he  had  forgotten  to  leave 
his  lance  outside  the  door. 

Frau  Hadwig  gazed  at  him  with  evident  satis- 
faction. He  was  no  longer  the  timid  teacher  of 
grammar.  .  .  .  HejDOwed  low  before  the  duchess. 


230  EKKEHARD 

"  Our  brothers  in  the  Lord  from  the  Reichenau," 
said  he,  "bid  me  tell  you  that  a  great  thirst  is  be- 
setting their  ranks." 

Frau  Hadwig  laughed. 

"  Have  a  tun  of  cool  beer  placed  in  the  courtyard. 
Until  the  Huns  are  all  driven  out  of  the  country,  our 
cellarer  is  not  to  complain  about  the  emptying  of 
his  tuns." 

She  pointed  at  the  bustling  life  in  the  courtyard. 
"Life,  after  all,"  she  went  on  to  say,  "brings  us 
richer  and  more  manifold  pictures  than  all  poets  can 
paint.  You  were  hardly  prepared  for  such  a  change 
of  things,  were  you  ?  " 

But  Ekkehard  would  allow  nothing  approaching 
a  slight  to  come  near  his  beloved  Vergilius. 

"  Allow  me,"  said  he,  as  he  stood  leaning  on  his 
spear,  "  all  that  we  now  see  you  will  find  word  for 
word  in  the  ^neid  ;  as  if  there  was  to  be  nothing 
new  under  the  sun.  Would  you  not  fancy  that  Ver- 
gil stood  here  on  this  balcony,  looking  down  on 
yonder  busy  crowd,  when  he  sang,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war  in  Latium,  — 

Some  are  hollowing  helmets,  or  weaviftg  the  u  illowy  rvattles 
Round  the  boss  of  the  shield ;  while  others  with  pliable  silver 
Decorate  breastplates  of  bronze  and  inlay  the  flexible  tassets. 
Ploughshare  and  rcafing-hook  here  lie  neglected ;   here  in  the 

furrow 
Stands  the  plough  unloved.  The  fathers'  swords  are  retempered. 
Now  the  trumpets  resound  for  war ;  through  the  land  flies  the 

signal  A^-^ 

"  That  fits  the  situation  fairly  well,"  said  Frau 
Hadwig.    "  But  can  you  also  predict  the  issue  of  the 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  HUNS      23 1 

coming  battles  from  5^our  epic,"  she  was  going  to 
ask ;  but  in  times  of  such  confusion  't  is  difficult  to 
talk  about  poetry.  The  steward  had  just  come  in  to 
report  that  all  the  meat  was  eaten  up;  should  he  kill 
two  more  oxen.  .   .   . 

After  a  few  days  Simon  Bardo's  men  were  so 
well  drilled  that  he  could  let  the  duchess  reviesv 
them ;  and  it  was  time  for  them  to  make  the  most 
of  their  time,  for  the  night  before  they  had  been 
alarmed.  A  bright  red  light  illuminated  the  sky, 
far  across  the  lake.  Like  a  fiery  cloud  the  dread 
sign  hung  there  for  several  hours ;  the  conflagra- 
tion was  probably  over  in  Helvetia. 

The  monks  disputed  about  it.  Some  said  that  it 
was  a  heavenly  apparition,  —  a  fiery  star,  sent  as  a 
warning  unto  all  Christendom.  "  There  must  be  a 
great  fire  in  the  Rhine  valley,"  said  others.  One 
brother,  gifted  with  a  keener  nose,  even  claimed  to 
perceive  the  smell  of  smoke.  It  was  long  past  mid- 
night when  the  red  light  died  out. 

On  the  southern  declivity  of  the  mountain  there 
was  a  moderate-sized  field ;  the  first  spring  flowers 
were  already  blooming  there,  while  deep  snow  still 
lay  in  the  bottom-lands  of  the  valleys.  This  was  to 
be  the  place  for  the  review. 

High  on  her  charger  sat  Frau  Hadwig ;  around  her 
clustered  a  number  of  well-armed  knights  who  had 
answered  the  summons,  —  the  Barons  of  Randegg,  of 
Hoewen,  and  the  gaunt  Fridinger.  The  abbot  of 
Reichenau  was  likewise  proudly  sitting  on  his  pal- 
frey, —  a  well-mounted  champion  of  the  Lord.'^'^ 
Herr  Spazzo  the  chamberlain   took   great  pains  to 


2  32  EKKEHARD 

equal  him  in  carriage  and  movements,  for  his  de- 
meanor was  highly  aristocratic  and  knightly.  Ekke- 
hard  was  likewise  expected  to  accompany  the  duchess, 
and  a  steed  had  been  led  out  for  him  ;  but  he  de- 
clined the  lionor,  so  that  he  might  not  arouse  envy  in 
the  hearts  of  the  other  monks. 

And  now  the  outer  castle  gate  slowly  opened  on  its 
heavy  hinges,  and  out  strode  the  troops,  the  archers 
and  the  cross-bow  men  at  the  head.  They  marched 
in  closed  ranks,  to  the  sounds  of  enlivening  music. 
Audif ax,  with  solemn  face,  went  with  the  horn-blowers 
as  bag-piper.  Then  Simon  Bardo  ordered  a  signal 
to  be  given ;  suddenly  the  ranks  broke  into  motion, 
and  swarmed  out  like  wild  bees,  and  occupied  every 
bush  and  hedge. 

Then  came  the  cohort  of  monks,  with  firm  step,  in 
helmets,  and  with  armor  under  their  cowls,  shields 
on  their  backs,  with  couched  lances,  —  a  redoubtable 
force.  High  in  the  air  waved  tlieir  flag,  —  a  red  cross 
in  a  white  field.  They  marched  on  as  regularly  as  if 
it  had  been  for  years  their  trade ;  with  strong  men 
mental  discipline  is  an  excellent  preparation  for  the 
warrior's  life.  Only^one  in  the  left  wing  could  not 
keep  step  ;  his  lance  protruded  beyond  the  straight 
line  preserved  by  the  others. 

"  It  is  not  his  fault,"  said  Abbot  Wazmann  to  the 
duchess.  "He  copied  a  whole  mass-book  in  six 
weeks,  so  that  the  writer's  cramp  affected  his  fingers." 

Ekkehard  was  marching  in  the  right  wing,  and 
when  they  passed  the  duchess,  he  caught  a  look  from 
the  radiant  eyes  which  could  scarcely  have  been 
intended  for  the  whole  corps. 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      233 

Divided  into  three  bodies  followed  the  vassals  and 
the  arriere-ban.  They  marched  to  the  blast  of  huge 
bull's-horns  ;  strange-looking  armor  made  its  appear- 
ance,—  many  a  weapon  had  already  seen  service  under 
the  great  Emperor  Karl.  Some  of  them  were  armed 
with  a  heavy  cudgel,  and  nothing  more. 

Meanwhile  Herr  Spazzo  with  his  sharp  eyes  was 
looking  down  into  the  valley.  "  'T  is  well  that  we 
are  all  together  ;  I  believe  there  's  work  to  do  yonder," 
said  he ;  and  he  pointed  down  into  the  valley,  where 
the  roofs  of  Hilzingen  hamlet  peeped  out  from  behind 
a  hilly  region. 

A  dark  Hne  was  seen  approaching.  .  .  .  Then 
■Simon  Bardo  ordered  his  troops  to  halt,  and  after 
a  searching  look  in  that  direction  he  said  :  "  Those 
are  no  Huns;  they  are  not  mounted."  Nevertheless, 
as  a  matter  of  greater  precaution,  he  commanded  his 
archers  to  occupy  the  brow  of  the  mountain. 

But  as  the  ranks  of  the  strangers  approached,  the 
garb  of  St.  Benedict  also  became  visible.  A  golden 
cross,  in  lieu  of  a  standard,  towered  above  the  lances. 
Ky7'ie  eleisoii^  rang  their  litany,  as  they  drew  up  the 
steep  path. 

"  My  brothers  !  "  exclaimed  Ekkehard.  Then  the 
Reichenau  cohort  broke  ranks  and  ran  down  the 
mountain  with  jubilant  shouts  ;  and  when  they  soon 
met,  there  were  joyful  greetings  and  embraces. 

To  meet  again  in  the  hour  of  danger  fills  the  heart 
with  delight. 

Arm  in  arm  with  the  Reichenauers,  the  stranger 
guests,  headed  by  their  abbot,  Cralo,  now  came  up. 
On  a  heavy  cart  in  the  rear-guard  they  brought  the 
blind  Thieto. 


234  EKKEHARD 

"  May  God  bless  you,  most  noble  cousin,"  said  the 
Abbot  Cralo,  bowing  his  head  before  the  duchess. 
"Who  would  have  thought,  half  a  year  ago,  that  I 
should  return  your  visit  with  the  whole  of  the  brother- 
hood !  But  the  God  of  Israel  says,  '  Let  my  people 
leave  their  home,  so  that  they  may  remain  faithful 
unto  me.' " 

Frau  Hadwig,  touched,  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 

"  These  are  times  of  trial,"  said  she.    "  Welcome  !  " 

Reinforced  by  the  new-comers,  the  Hohentwiel 
army  betook  itself  back  again  behind  the  protecting 
walls  of  the, castle. 

Praxedis  had  descended  into  the  courtyard.  There 
she  stood  under  the  linden-tree,  gazing  at  the  men 
as  they  came  in.  Already  those  of  St.  Gall  had  all 
assembled  in  the  courtyard,  but  still  she  gazed 
steadily  at  the  gate  as  if  some  one  else  were  to  come. 
But  he  whom  her  eyes  sought  was  not  among  the 
last  who  entered. 

In  the  castle  they  were  busy  arranging  quarters 
for  the  new  guests.  The  space  was  comparatively 
scanty.  In  the  great  round  tower  there  was  an  airy 
hall ;  in  this  they  heaped  up  straw  for  a  temporary 
sleeping-room. 

"  If  things  go  on  in  this  way,"  grumbled  the  stew- 
ard, who  scarcely  knew  where  his  head  was,  "  we 
shall  soon  have  the  whole  priesthood  of  Europe  up 
here  on  our  crag." 

Kitchen  and  cellar  gave  what  they  had. 

In  the  hall  downstairs  sat  monks  and  warriors 
noisily  taking  their  meal.  Frau  Hadwig  had  invited 
into   her  own  reception-room  the  two   abbots,  and 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE  HUNS      235 

whoever,  among  her  guests,  was  of  noble  birth.  There 
was  much  to  be  talked  over  and  discussed,  humming 
and  buzzing  of  questions  and  answers. 

Then  Abbot  Cralo  told  them  about  the  fate  of  his 
monastery.^*'*' 

"  This  time,"  he  began,  "  the  danger  came  on  us 
almost  unawares.  Scarcely  had  we  spoken  of  the 
Huns  when  the  ground  resounded  under  their 
horses'  hoofs.  It  was  sharp  work.  The  monastery 
pupils  I  hastily  sent  over  to  the  fortress  of  Wasser- 
burg,  Aristotle  and  Cicero  will  gather  some  dust ; 
the  boys  might  catch  fish  in  the  Bodensee,  if  they  do 
not  find  more  serious  work  to  do.  The  old  teachers 
fled  with  them  across  the  water  in  good  time.  But 
the  rest  of  us  had  made  ourselves  a  sort  of  strong- 
hold, as  a  refuge.  Where  the  Sitterbach  rushes 
through  a  narrow,  fir-grown  valley,  we  found  an 
excellent  hiding-place,  so  sheltered  that  we  thought 
no  sneaking  heathen  would  ever  find  the  road  to  it. 
There  we  built  ourselves  a  strong  house,  with  towers 
and  walls,  and  consecrated  it  to  the  Holy  Trinity,  — 
who  I  trust  will  protect  it. 

"It  was  not  fairly  finished  ere  the  messengers 
from  the  lake  came,  crying, '  Fly  !  the  Huns  are  here  ! ' 
Others  came  from  the  Rhine  valley,  and  '  Fly  '  was 
again  the  word.  The  sky  was  red"  from  confla- 
grations and  bale-fires ;  the  air  was  filled  with  the 
shrieks  of  people  flying  and  the  creaking  of  hurry- 
ing cart-wheels.  So  we  also  set  out.  Gold  and 
jewels,  St.  Gallus'  and  St.  Othmar's  cofiins,  all  our 
treasures,  were  first  safely  hidden ;  the  books  the 
boys  carried  off  with  them  to  the  Wasserburg;  not 


236  EKKEHARD 

much  thought  was  given  to  food  and  drink  for  us; 
only  some  scanty  provisions  had  been  brought  be- 
forehand to  our  retreat  in  the  forest.  There  we  now 
went  in  the  utmost  haste.  It  was  only  after  we  had 
started  that  the  brothers  perceived  that  we  had  for- 
gotten the  bhnd  Thieto  and  left  him  behind  in  his 
cell ;  but  no  one  went  back  for  him,  as  the  ground 
was  burning  under  our  feet.  Thus  we  remained  for 
several  days  quietly  hidden  in  our  firwood  castle. 
Often  at  night  we  sprang  to  arms,  fancying  the  enemy 
were  at  the  gate ;  but  it  was  onlv  the  rushing  of  the 
Sitter,  or  the  rustling  of  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops. 

"  One  evening,  however,  a  clear  voice  demanded 
admittance,  and  in  came  Burkhard,  the  cloister 
pupil,  panic-stricken  and  dead  tired.  Out  of  friend- 
ship for  Romeias,  the  watchman  at  the  gate,  he 
had  remained  behind ;  we  had  not  noticed  it.  He 
brought  evil  tidings.  The  horror  of  what  he  had 
gone  through  had  turned  some  of  the  hairs  on  his 
young  head  quite  gray  in  a  single  night." 

Abbot  Cralo's  voice  began  to  tremble.  He  stopped 
a  moment  and  took  a  draught  of  wine. 

"  The  Lord  be  merciful  to  all  who  have  perished 
in  the  Christian  faith  !  "  said  he  with  emotion.  "  His 
light  shine  upon  them ;  may  he  let  them  rest  in 
peace ! " 

"  Amen,"  said  the  others. 

"Whom  do  you  mean.-*"  asked  the  duchess. 
Praxedis  left  her  place  and  went  behind  her  mistress's 
chair;  she  stood  breathlessly  watching  the  narrator's 
lips. 

"  Only  when  a  man  is  dead  and  gone,"    continued 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS      237 

Cralo,  taking  up  again  the  thread  of  his  discourse, 
"do  those  who  remain  appreciate  his  value.  Romeias, 
the  best  of  all  watchmen,  did  not  leave  the  monastery 
with  us.  '  I  will  keep  my  post  to  the  last,'  said  he. 
He  barred  all  the  gates;  hid  all  that  was  valuable, 
and  went  his  round  on  the  walls ;  Burkhard  the 
cloister  pupil  with  him.  Then  he  kept  watch  in  his 
tower-room,  his  arms  by  his  side.  Soon  appeared  a 
horde  of  Huns  on  horseback,  carefully  approaching 
the  walls.  Romeias  blew  his  horn  as  usual,  then 
quickly  ran  to  the  other  end  of  the  courtyard  and 
blew  the  horn  again  there  ;  as  if  the  monastery  were 
still  occupied  and  well  prepared.  '  Now  is  the  time  to 
depart,'  said  he  to  the  pupil.  He  had  fastened  an  old 
withered  nosegay  to  his  helmet,  Burkhard  told  us. 
And  then  the  two  went  over  to  the  blind  Thieto,  who 
was  loath  to  leave  his  accustomed  corner ;  but  they 
placed  him  on  two  spears,  and  thus  carried  him  away, 
letting  themselves  out  by  the  little  back  gate  and 
escaping  up  the  Schwarzathal. 

"  Already  the  Huns  had  sprung  from  their  horses, 
and  were  climbing  over  the  walls  ;  when  they  saw  that 
nothing  stirred,  they  swarmed  in  like  flies  on  a  drop 
of  honey.  But  Romeias  quietly  walked  on  up  the 
hill  with  his  hoary  burden. 

"  '  No  one  shall  say  of  the  monastery  watchman,' 
said  he,  '  that  he  quickened  his  step  to  please  a  pack 
of  heathenish  blood-hounds.' 

"  Thus  he  tried  to  encourage  his  young  friend  ;  but 
soon  the  Huns  were  on  their  track.  Wild  cries  came 
up  the  valley;  —  a  bit  farther,  and  the  first  arrows 
were  hissing  through  the  air.     So  they  reached  the 


238  EKKEHARD 

rock  of  the  recluses;  but  here  even  Romeias  was 
surprised  ;  —  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  Wiborad's 
hollow  chanting  fell  upon  their  ears.  In  a  heavenly- 
vision  her  trial  and  death  had  been  revealed  to  her, 
and  even  her  pious  confessor  Waldram  could  not 
persuade  her  to  fly. 

" '  My  cell  is  the  battle-field  on  which  I  have 
fought  against  the  old  enemy  of  mankind,  and  like 
a  champion  of  the  Lord,  I  will  defend  it  with  my 
body,'  ^^'  said  she  ;  and  so  she  remained  quite  alone 
in  the  wilderness,  when  all  the  others  left  it. 

"  Our  forest  castle  was  too  far  to  be  reached. 
Romeias  selected  the  most  isolated  hut ;  climbing 
up  on  the  crag,  he  let  the  blind  Thieto  in  by  the 
roof.  He  kissed  the  old  man  before  leaving  him ; 
then  he  bade  the  cloister  pupil  fly,  and  save  himself. 

"  '  Something  may  happen  to  me,'  said  he  ;  '  tell 
those  in  the  Waldburg  to  look  after  the  blind  one.' 

"  In  vain  Burkhard  besought  him,  and  quoted 
Nisus  and  Euryalus,  who  had  also  fled  into  the  dark- 
ness of  the  woods  before  the  greater  numbers  of  the 
Volscian  horsemen. 

" '  I  should  have  to  ^run  too  fast,'  replied  Romeias  ; 
*  it  would  make  me  too  warm,  and  give  me  pains  in 
the  chest.  I  must  speak  a  word  or  two  with  those 
children  of  the  Devil.' 

"  He  went  up  to  Wiborad's  cell,  and  knocked  at 
the  shutter. 

"'Give  me  thy  hand,  old  dragon,'  he  cried;  *  we 
will  make  peace  now,'  and  Wiborad  stretched  out  her 
withered  right  hand. 

"  Then  Romeias  rolled  some  huge  stones  into  the 


THE  APPROACH  OF  THE   HUNS      239 

narrow  path  so  as  to  block  up  the  passage  to  the 
Schwarzathal ;  took  his  shield  from  his  back,  and 
held  his  spears  ready.  With  flying  hair  he  stood 
behind  his  wall,  and  blew  once  more  on  his  big 
bugle-horn,  at  first  fierce  and  warlike,  then  softer 
and  sweeter,  until  an  arrow  flew  right  into  the  bend 
of  the  horn,  A  shower  of  arrows  covered  him  and 
pitted  his  shield  ;  he  shook  them  off.  Now  and  then 
one  of  the  Huns  climbed  up  the  rocks  to  get  at  him, 
but  Romeias's  spears  fetched  them  down  quickly. 
The  attack  became  fiercer,  wild  raged  the  battle ; 
but,  undaunted,  Wiborad  was  still  chanting  her 
psalm  :  — 

•  Destroy  them  in  thine  anger,  O  Lord.  Destroy 
thejn  that  they  do  no  more  exists  so  that  the  world 
may  know  that  God  is  reigning  in  Israel,  even  unto 
the  ends  of  the  earth.     Selah.  .  .  . 

"So  far  Burkhard  had  witnessed  the  fight;  then 
he  turned  and  fled.  We  in  the  refuge  were  all  very 
much  grieved,  and  that  very  night  sent  out  a  troop 
to  look  after  the  blind  Thieto.  It  was  all  still  on 
the  hill  of  the  recluses  when  they  reached  it.  The 
moon  was  shining  on  the  bodies  of  the  slain  Huns, 
and  there  the  brothers  found  also  .  .   ." 

Here  the  recital  was  interrupted  by  loud  sobs. 
Praxedis  leaned  painfully  on  the  back  of  the  duch- 
ess's chair,  and  was  weeping  bitterly. 

".  .  .  There  they  found  Romeias's  dismembered 
body,"  continued  the  abbot.  "The  enemy  li*ad 
hewn  off  and  carried  away  his  head.  He  lay  on  his 
shield ;    the  faded  flowers   which   had   adorned   his 


240  EKKEHARD 

helmet  tightly  clutched  in  his  hand.  May  God 
reward  him :  he  whose  life  is  given  for  duty  is  surely 
worthy  to  enter  heaven.  Vainly  they  knocked  at 
Wiborad's  shutter;  the  tiles  of  her  roof  were  broken. 
So  one  of  the  brothers  climbed  up,  and  looked  in: 
before  the  little  altar  of  her  cell  lay  the  recluse  wel- 
tering in  her  blood.  Three  sword  wounds  were 
visible  on  her  head;  the  Lord  had  deemed  her 
worthy  to  win  a  martyr's  crown  at  the  hands  of  the 
heathen." 

Those  present  were  too  much  moved  to  speak. 
Frau  Had  wig  also  was  deeply  touched. 

"  I  have  brought  you  the  martyr's  veil,"  said 
Cralo,  "consecrated  by  the  blood  of  her  wounds. 
You  might  hang  it  up  in  the  castle  church.  Only 
Thieto  the  blind  had  remained  unharmed.  Undis- 
covered by  the  enemy,  he  was  soundly  sleeping  in 
the  little  hut  by  the  rock. 

"  '  I  have  been  dreaming  that  an  eternal  peace  had 
come  over  the  world,'  said  he  to  the  brothers,  when 
they  awoke  him. 

"  But  even  in  our  remote  Sitter  valley  we  were  not 
to  have  peace  much  longer ;  the  Huns  found  their 
way  to  us.  There  was  a  swarming  and  piping  and 
snorting  such  as  the  quiet  forest  had  never  heard 
before.  Our  walls  were  firm,  and  our  courage 
strong ;  but  hungry  people  soon  get  tired  of  being 
besieged.  Day  before  yesterday  our  provisions 
were  eaten  up  ;  when  it  grew  dark  we  saw  the  pillars 
of 'smoke  rise  from  the  burning  of  our  monastery. 
So  we  broke  through  the  enemy,  in  the  middle  of 
the  niffht:  the  Lord  was  with  us  and  our  swords 


THE   APPROACH  OF   THE   HUNS       24 1 

helped  likewise.  And  so  we  have  come  to  you 
[the  abbot  bowed  toward  Frau  Hadwig]  .  .  .  home- 
less and  orphaned,  like  birds  whose  nest  has  been 
struck  by  lightning,  and  bringing  nothing  with  us  but 
the  tidings  that  the  Huns,  whom  the  Lord  destroy, 
are  following  on  our  heels."  .   .   . 

"The  sooner  they  come,  the  better,"  defiantly 
exclaimed  the  abbot  of  Reichenau,  raising  his 
beaker. 

*'  Here  's  to  the  arms  of  God's  own  champions," 
said  the  duchess,  ringing  her  glass  against  his. 

"  And  revenge  for  the  brave  Romeias,"  said 
Praxedis  in  a  low  voice  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
as  her  glass  vibrated  against  the  gaunt  Fridinger's. 

It  was  getting  late.  Wild  songs  and  warlike 
cries  were  still  resounding  in  the  hall  on  the  first 
floor.  The  young  monk  who  had  come  to  the  Rei- 
chenau from  Mutina  in  Italy,  had  again  struck  up 
his  sentinel's  song. 

The  opportunity  for  valiant  deeds  was  not  to  be 
long  delayed. 


VOL.  I.  —  16 


242  EKKEHARD 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

HERIBALD    AXD    HIS    GUESTS. 

Ox  the  island  of  Reichenau  it  was  silent  and 
lonely  after  the  inhabitants  of  the  monastery  had 
taken  their  departure.  The  weak-minded  Heribald 
was  lord  and  master  of  the  whole  place  ;  he  was  much 
pleased  with  his  solitude.  For  hours  he  sat  on  the 
shore,  skipping  fiat  pebbles  over  the  waves.  When 
they  sank  at  once  he  scolded  them. 

With  the  poultry-  in  the  yard  he  held  many  a  dia- 
logue ;  he  fed  them  regularly. 

"  If  you  are  very  good,  and  the  brothers  do  not 
return,"  he  once  said,  "  Heribald  will  preach  you  a 
sermon." 

In  the  monastery  he  found  plenty  of  amusement: 
—  in  one  day  of  solitude  a  man  can  hatch  a  good 
many  useful  ideas. 

The  camerarius  had  angered  him  by  refusing  to 
give  him  the  necessary  shoe-leather:  so  Heribald 
went  up  to  the  cell  of  the  camerarius,  smashed  his 
large  stone  water-jug,  as  well  as  his  three  flower-pots, 
cut  open  the  straw  mattress  on  his  bed,  and  filled  it 
up  with  the  broken  crockery  ;  then  he  lay  down  on  it 
to  see  how  it  would  feel,  and  the  fragments  were  hard 
and  sharp,  so  he  smiled  contentedly  and  betook 
himself  to  Abbot  Watzmann's  apartments. 


HERIBALD   AND  HIS   GUESTS         243 

Against  the  abbot  he  also  bore  a  grudge,  as  he 
was  indebted  to  him  for  many  a  sound  whipping; 
but  he  found  everj-thing  locked  up  and  in  excellent 
order,  so  nothing  was  left  to  him  but  to  break  off 
one  of  the  legs  of  the  cushioned  easy-chair.  He 
cunningly  put  it  back  in  its  old  place,  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

"  That  will  break  down  nicely  with  him,  when  he 
comes  home  and  sits  comfortably  on  it.  '  Thou  shalt 
castigate  the  flesh,'  sa3^s  St.  Benedict.  But  Heribald 
has  not  broken  off  the  leg  of  the  chair.  The  Huns 
have  done  it." 

Prayer,  devotion,  and  psalm-singing  he  performed, 
as  the  rules  of  the  order  prescribed.  The  seven 
daily  times  for  prayer  the  solitary  strictly  adhered 
to,  as  if  he  might  be  punished  for  missing  them  ; 
even  the  midnight  vigil  he  descended  into  the  clois- 
ter church  to  hold. 

At  the  very  hour  when  his  brothers  were  carousing 
in  the  hall  of  the  ducal  castle  with  the  monks  of  St. 
Gall,  Heribald  was  standing  in  the  choir.  The  un- 
canny shadows  of  the  night  enveloped  the  aisle,  dimly 
flickered  the  everlasting  lamp ;  but  fearlessly,  and  with 
a  clear  voice,  Heribald  intoned  the  introductory  verse  : 

Lord^  I  cry  tinto  thee  :  inake  haste  unto  Die ;  give 
ear  unto  my  voice  when  I  cry  mito  thee.  And  he 
sang  the  third  psalm,  the  one  which  David  sang 
when  he  fled  before  Absalom  his  son. 

When  he  reached  the  place  where  the  antiphonal 
response  usually  came,  according  to  custom,  he 
stopped  and  waited  for  the  other  choir  to  take  it  up, 
but  everything  remained  silent  and  still ;  then   Heri- 


244  EKKEHARD 

bald  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead.  "  Ah,"  said 
he,  '•  I  forgot !  They  are  all  gone,  and  Heribald  is 
alone."  .  .  . 

Then  as  he  was  about  to  sing  the  ninety-fourth 
psalm,  as  the  nightly  service  required,  the  everlast- 
ing lamp  went  out,  —  a  bat  flew  into  it.  Outside, 
storm  and  rain.  Heavy  drops  fell  on  the  roof  of  the 
church,  and  beat  against  the  windows.  A  strange 
feeling  came  over  Heribald. 

"  Holy  Benedict,"  exclaimed  he,  "  be  pleased  to 
see  that  it  is  not  Heribald's  fault  that  the  antiphon 
was  not  sung." 

He  walked  through  the  darkness  out  of  the  choir. 
A  shrill  wind  whistled  through  a  little  window  of  the 
crypt  under  the  high  altar,  producing  a  howling  sound; 
as  Heribald  advanced,  a  draught  caught  his  garment. 

"  Art  thou  come  back,  thou  hellish  tempter.^  "  said 
he.     "  Must  I  fight  thee  once  more  ?  "  ^^^ 

Unhesitatingly  he  stepped  back  to  the  altar,  and 
seized  a  wooden  crucifix  which  the  abbot  had  not 
had  taken  away, 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  come  on,  spec- 
tre of  Satan  !   Heribald  awaits  thee  !  " 

With  undaunted  courage  he  thus  stood  on  the 
altar-steps ;  the  wind  continued  to  howl ;  the  Devil 
did  not  appear,  .  ,   . 

"  He  had  enough  of  it  the  last  time,"  smilingly 
said  the  idiot.  About  a  year  before,  the  Evil  One  had 
appeared  to  him  in  the  shape  of  a  big  dog,  barking 
furiously  at  him  ;  but  Heribald  had  resisted  him  with 
a  pole,  and  had  plied  him  with  such  doughty  blows 
that  the  pole  broke,  .  ,   . 


HE  RIBALD   AND   HIS   GUESTS         245 

Then  Heribald  screamed  out  a  number  of  choice 
invectives  in  the  direction  where  the  wind  was  moan- 
ing ;  and  when  even  after  this  nothing  came  to  tempt 
him,  he  replaced  the  crucifix  on  the  altar,  bent  his 
knees  before  it,  and  went  back  to  his  cell  murmuring 
the  Kyrie  eleison.  There  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just  until  late  in  the  morning. 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens,  as  Heribald 
complacently  walked  up  and  down  before  the  mon- 
astery. Since  the  time  when  he  had  enjoyed  an 
occasional  holiday  at  school,  he  had  seldom  had  an 
opportunity  of  idling.  "  Idleness  is  the  soul's  worst 
enemy,"  St.  Benedict  had  said,  and  in  consequence 
strictly  ordered  his  disciples  to  fill  up  with  the  work 
of  their  hands  the  time  which  was  not  claimed  by 
devotional  tasks. 

Heribald  knew  not  art  or  handicraft,  and  so  they 
employed  him  in  splitting  wood  and  in  rendering 
similar  useful  services  ;  but  now  he  paced  up  and 
down  with  folded  arms  before  the  heaped-up  logs  of 
wood  and  looked  up  smilingly  at  one  of  the  cloister 
windows. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  down,  Father  Rudimann," 
he  cried,  "  and  make  Heribald  cut  the  wood  ?  You 
used  to  keep  such  excellent  watch  over  the  brothers  ; 
and  so  often  called  Heribald  a  useless  servant  of  the 
Lord,  when  he  was  cloud-gazing  instead  of  handling 
the  axe.     Why  don't  you  attend  to  your  duty  ?  " 

Not  even  an  echo  gave  answer  to  the  half-witted 
creature's  query  ;  then  he  drew  out  some  of  the  under 
logs,  noisily  the  whole  pile  rolled  down.  "  Tum- 
ble if  you  like,"  continued  he  in  his  soliloquy,  "  Her- 


246  EKKEHARD 

ibald  is  having  a  holiday,  and  is  not  going  to  pile 
you  up  again.  The  abbot  has  run  away,  and  the 
brothers  have  run  away  also  ;  so  it  serves  them  right, 
if  everything  tumbles  down." 

After  this  laudable  enterprise,  Heribald  directed 
his  steps  to  the  monastery  garden.  Another  project 
now  occupied  his  mind.  He  intended  to  cut  a  few 
delicate  heads  of  lettuce  for  his  dinner,  and  to  dress 
them  a  good  deal  better  than  they  would  ever  have 
been  done  if  the  father  head  cook  had  been  pres- 
ent. Temptingly  the  vision  was  just  rising  before 
him,  how  he  would  not  spare  the  oil-jug,  and  would 
pitilessly  cut  to  pieces  some  of  the  biggest  onions, 
when  a  cloud  of  dust  whirled  up  on  the  white  sandy 
shore  opposite  ;  the  forms  of  horses  and  riders  be- 
came visible.  .  .  . 

"  Are  you  there,  already  ?  "  said  the  monk,  and  he 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross ;  his  lips  mumbled  a 
hasty  prayer,  but  his  face  quickly  resumed  its  cus- 
tomary smile  of  contentment. 

"  Strange  wanderers  and  pilgrims  are  to  meet 
with  a  Christian  reception  at  the  gate  of  any  house 
of  the  Lord,"  ^^^  he  ^  murmured.  '•  I  will  receive 
them." 

A  new  idea  now  crossed  his  brain  ;  he  passed  his 
hand  over  his  forehead. 

"  Hav^e  I  not  studied  the  history  of  the  ancients 
in  the  cloister  school,  and  learned  how  the  Roman 
senators  received  the  invading  Gauls  ?  —  Wrapped 
in  their  mantles,  the  ivory  sceptre  in  their  hands,  the 
old  graybeards  sat  in  their  chairs,  without  winking, 
like   bronze   idols.     Not   for   nothinsf   is   the    Latin 


HERIBALD   AND  HIS   GUESTS         247 

teacher  going  to  tell  us  that  was  a  most  worthy 
reception.     Heribald  can  do  the  same  ! "  .  .  . 

A  mild  imbecility  may  now  and  then  be  an  envi- 
able dower  in  life.  What  appears  black  to  others, 
seems  to  the  half-witted  as  blue  or  green;  his  path 
may  be  zig-zag  but  he  does  not  notice  the  serpents 
hidden  in  the  grass  ;  and  the  abysses  into  which  the 
wise  man  inevitably  falls,  he  stumbles  over,  without 
a  suspicion  of  danger.  .  .  . 

A  curule  chair  not  being  just  then  in  the  monas- 
tery, Heribald  pushed  a  huge  oak  log  toward  the 
gate  which  led  into  the  courtyard.  "  For  what  end 
have  we  studied  secular  history  if  we  cannot  take 
counsel  by  it .'' "  said  he,  and  seated  himself  quietly 
on  his  block,  in  expectation  of  what  was  to  come. 

Opposite,  on  the  near  shore,  a  troop  of  horsemen 
liad  stopped.  With  their  reins  slung  round  their 
arms,  and  their  arrows  ready  on  their  bowstrings, 
they  had  gone  on  ahead,  —  the  scouts  of  the  Hunnish 
horde.  When  no  ambuscade  was  discovered  be- 
hind the  willows  bordering  the  lake,  they  stopped 
a  while  to  rest  their  horses.  Then  the  arrows  were 
put  back  into  their  quivers,  the  crooked  sabres 
taken  between  the  teeth,  and  pressing  the  spurs  into 
the  horses'  sides,  they  went  into  the  lake.  Quickly 
the  horses  crossed  the  blue  waves.  Now  the  fore- 
most had  touched  the  land,  and  sprang  from  his 
saddle,  and  shook  himself  three  times,  like  a  poodle 
coming  out  of  a  cold  bath !  With  piercing,  triumph- 
ant shouts  they  approached  the  silent  Reichenau. 

Like  an  image  of  stone  sat  Heribald,  gazing  un- 
dauntedly at  the  strange  figures.     Never  as  yet  had 


248  EKKEHARD 

he  passed  a  sleepless  night  musing  over  the  perfec- 
tion of  human  beauty ;  but  the  faces  which  now  met 
his  view  struck  him  as  being  so  very  ugly  that  he 
could  not  suppress  a  long-drawn.  "  Have  mercy  upon 
us,  O  Lord  ! '' 

With  crooked  backs  the  strange  guests  sat  in 
their  saddles.  Their  dress  was  the  skin  of  wild 
beasts;  their  bodies  lean  and  small;  their  skulls 
square-shaped ;  black  shaggy  hair  hung  down  in 
wild  disorder ;  and  their  unshapely  yellow  faces 
glistened  as  if  they  had  been  anointed  with  tallow. 
One  of  the  foremost  had  of  his  own  accord  enlarged 
his  coarse-lipped  mouth  considerably,  slitting  it  out 
toward  the  ears ;  from  their  small,  deep-set  eyes  they 
looked  out  suspiciously  at  the  world. 

"  To  make  a  Hun,  one  need  only  give  a  square 
shape  to  a  lump  of  clay,  stick  on  a  smaller  lump  for 
a  nose,  and  drive  in  the  chin,"  Heribald  was  just 
thinking,  when  they  stood  before  him.  He  did  not 
understand  their  hissing  language,  and  smiled  com- 
placently, as  if  the  whole  gang  had  no  concern  for 
him. 

For  a  while  they  stared  in  astonishment  at  the 
half-witted  fellow,  as  professional  critics  do  at  a 
new  poet,  when  they  are  as  yet  undecided  in  what 
pigeon-hole  of  ready-made  judgments  they  are  to 
put  him.  At  last  one  of  them  caught  sight  of  the 
bald  spot  on  Heribald's  pate,  and  pointed  ait  it  with 
his  crooked  sabre.  They  raised  a  sneering  laugh  ; 
one  seized  his  bow  and  arrow  to  aim  at  the  monk. 
But  now  Heribald's  patience  had  come  to  an  end ; 
a  feeling  of  Allemannic  pride  came  over  him  as  he 
confronted  this  rabble. 


HERIBALD  AND  HIS   GUESTS         249 

"  By  St.  Benedict's  tonsure,"  he  cried,  leaping  to 
his  feet,  "  no  heathenish  dog  shall  mock  at  the 
crown  of  my  head  !  " 

He  snatched  the  reins  of  one  of  the  foremost 
riders,  tore  away  his  crooked  sabre,  and  was  just 
going  to  assume  an  aggressive  attitude,  when, 
quicker  than  lightning,  one  of  the  Huns  threw  a 
noose  over  his  head  and  pulled  him  down.  Then 
they  leaped  on  him,  tied  his  hands  to  his  back,  and 
were  already  raising  their  death-bringing  arms,  when 
a  distant  rumble  and  tumult  was  heard,  like  the 
approach  of  a  mighty  army.  This  drew  their  atten- 
tion from  the  idiot.  They  threw  him  like  a  sack 
against  his  oak-trunk,  and  galloped  off  down  to  the 
water's  edge. 

A  great  cavalcade  of  the  Hunnic  forces  had  now 
arrived  on  the  opposite  shore.  The  vanguard,  by 
a  shrill  v/histle,  gave  the  signal  that  all  was  safe. 
At  one  of  the  extremities  of  the  island,  overgrown 
with  reeds,  they  had  discovered  a  ford,  which  could 
be  crossed  on  horseback  with  dry  feet.  This  they 
showed  to  their  comrades ;  many  hundred  horsemen 
of  them  now  swarmed  over  like  hornets. 

Their  united  forces  had  availed  nothing  against 
the  walls  of  Augsburg  and  the  bishop's  prayers  ;  '^'^^ 
so,  in  hordes,  they  were  now  ravaging  the  land. 

In  face,  figure,  and  manner  of  sitting  on  horse- 
back they  were  all  alike,  for  with  uncultivated  races 
the  features  are  as  if  cast  in  one  mould,  indicating 
that  the  vocation  of  the  individual  lies  in  conforming 
itself  to  the  mass,  instead  of  contrasting  with  it. 

In    the    orchards  and   gardens    where  the  monks 


2  50  EKKEHARD 

used  to  walk  back  and  forth  reciting  their  breviaries, 
the  strange  Hunnic  arms  now  glistened  for  the  first 
time.  Winding  in  a  serpentine  line  came  the  mounted 
train  along  the  narrow  path  from  the  mainland ;  a 
wild  din  of  music,  like  the  clanging  of  cymbals  and 
the  cry  of  violins,  accompanied  them  ;  but  the  sounds 
were  shrill  and  sharp  as  vinegar,  for  the  ears  of  the 
Huns  were  large,  but  not  sensitive,  and  only  those 
who  were  unfit  for  cavalrj-  service  were  allowed  to 
cultivate  music. 

High  over  their  heads  floated  the  standard,  with 
the  green  cat  in  a  red  field ;  around  it  rode  some  of 
the  chieftains,  Ellak  and  Hornebog  towering  above 
the  rest. 

Ellak  had  a  straight,  unhunnic  nose  ;  a  Circassian 
was  his  mother,  and  to  her  he  was  indebted  for  his 
pale,  intelligent  face  and  penetrating  eyes.  He  rep- 
resented the  ruling  intellect  of  the  mass.  It  was 
his  deep-rooted  conviction  that  the  old  world  must 
be  ploughed  afresh  with  fire  and  sword,  and  that  it 
was  better  to  be  ploughman  than  manure. 

Hornebog,  lean  and  lank,  wore  his  long  black  hair 
twisted  into  two  solitary  curls,  one  at  each  side  of 
his  face.  Above  towered  the  glittering  helmet, 
adorned  with  two  widespread  eagles'  wings  ;  he  was 
the  very  prototype  of  Hunnic  horsemanship.  To 
him  the  saddle  served  as  home,  tent,  and  palace.  He 
shot  the  bird  on  the  wing,  and  with  his  crooked  sabre 
could  sever  the  head  of  an  enemy  from  its  trunk 
while  galloping  past.  From  his  holster  hung  the 
six-corded  whip,  a  significant  symbol  of  executive 
'er. 


HE  RIBALD   AND   HIS   GUESTS         25  I 


chieftains  hung  beautifully  embroidered  altar-cloths, 
as  well  as  chasubles,  a  living  witness  that  they  had 
already  paid  visits  to  other  monasteries.  Their 
booty  was  transported  in  many  wagons ;  a  great 
rabble  of  followers  closed  the  train. 

In  a  cart  drawn  by  mules,  amongst  copper  camp- 
kettles  and  other  kitchen-utensils,  sat  an  old  wrinkled 
woman.  She  was  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand, 
and  looking  toward  the  sun;  in  that  direction  rose 
the  mountain-peaks  of  the  Hegau.  She  knew  them 
well ;  the  old  hag  was  the  Forest  woman.  Banished 
by  Ekkehard,  she  had  departed  for  foreign  lands ; 
revenge  was  her  first  thought  when  she  awoke  in  the 
morning,  and  her  last  as  she  fell  asleep  in  the  even- 
ing. Thus  she  came  as  far  as  Augsburg.  At  the 
foot  of  the  mountain  on  which  the  wooden  temple 
of  the  Suabian  goddess  Zisa^"^!  had  once  stood,  the 
camp-fires  of  the  Huns  were  burning  ;  with  them  she 
remained. 

On  a  magnificent  steed,  by  the  side  of  the  old 
Forest  woman,  rode  a  young  maiden  full  of  the 
unbounded  spirits  caused  by  a  healthy  out-of-doors 
life.  Under  her  little  short  nose  there  was  a  seduc- 
tive pair  of  red  lips;  her  eyes  were  sparkling;  her 
hair  hung  down  in  a  long  tossing  braid,  inter- 
woven with  a  red  ribbon  which  floated  in  the  air  like 
the  pennant  of  a  ship.  Her  skirts  were  looped  up. 
Over  her  loose  bodice  hung  bow  and  quiver,  and  thus 
she  managed  her  horse,  —  a  Hunnic  Artemis. 

This  was  Erica,  the  Flower-of-the-heath.  She  was 
not  of  Hunnic  origin.     She  had  been  picked  up  as 


252  EKKEHARD 

an  abandoned  child  by  some  horsemen  on  the  steppes 
of  Pannonia,  and  had  accompanied  the  Huns,  and 
grown  up,  hardly  knowing  how.  Those  whom  she 
liked,  she  caressed  ;  those  who  displeased  her,  she 
bit  in  the  arm. 

Botund,  the  old  Hunnic  chieftain,  had  loved  her. 
Irkund  the  young  one  killed  Botund  because  of  the 
Flower-of-the-heath.  But  when  Irkund  wanted  to 
enjoy  her  love,  Zobolsu  came  along,  and  with  his 
sharp  lance  did  him  the  same  service  without  his 
asking  for  it.  Thus  Erica's  fate  had  been  varied, 
—  new  ways  !  new  countries  !  new  loves  !  —  and  she 
had  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  horde,  as  if  she 
were  its  good  spirit,  and  she  was  held  in  superstitious 
veneration. 

"  So  long  as  the  Flower. of-the-heath  blooms  in  our 
ranks,  we  shall  conquer  the  world,"  said  the  Huns  ; 
"  Forward  ! " 

Meanwhile,  poor  Heribald  was  still  lying  bound  at 
the  monastery  gate.  His  meditations  were  mel- 
ancholy. A  big  gad-fly  was  buzzing  round  his  head. 
He  could  not  drive  it  away  with  his  hands  fastened 
behind  his  back. 

"  Heribald  has  behaved  with  dignity,"  thought  he. 
"  Like  one  of  the  old  Romans  he  sat  at  the  gate  to 
receive  the  enemy;  and  now  he  is  lying  bound  on  the 
stones,  and  the  gad-fly  sits  with  impunity  on  his  nose. 
That  is  the  reward  of  dignified  behavior.  Heribald 
will  never  again  be  dignified!  Amongst  hedgedogs, 
dignity  is  a  very  superfluous  thing." 

Like  a  mountain-torrent  when  the  flood-sfate  has 


HERIBALD   AND  HIS   GUESTS         253 

been  raised,  the  Hunnic  tide  was  now  streaming  into 
the  cloister-yard. 

The  good  Heribald  began  to  feel  really  uncom- 
fortable. 

"  Oh,  Camerarius,"  he  continued  in  his  meditation, 
"  even  if  thou  shouldst  refuse  me,  the  next  time,  shirt 
and  habit,  as  well  as  shoe-leather,  I  would  fly,  never- 
theless, a  naked  man  !  " 

Some  of  the  van  reported  to  Ellak  how  they  had 
found  the  solitary  monk.  He  made  a  sign  for  them 
to  bring  the  prisoner  up  before  him  ;  they  loosened  his 
cords,  set  him  on  his  feet  in  the  courtyard,  and  with 
heavy  blows  drove  him  toward  their  leader.  Slowly 
marched  the  poor  wretch,  emitting  grunts  of  indig- 
nation. 

An  unspeakably  satirical  smile  played  round  the 
Hunnic  chieftain's  lips  when  the  idiot  at  last  stood 
before  him.  Negligently  dropping  the  reins  on  the 
horse's  neck,  he  turned  round. 

"  See  what  a  representative  of  German  art  and 
science  looks  like,"  he  said,  addressing  Erica. 

On  his  numerous  piratical  expeditions,  Ellak 
had  acquired  a  slight  knowledge  of  the  German 
language. 

"Where  are  the  inhabitants  of  the  island.?"  asked 
he  in  a  commanding  voice. 

Heribald  pointed  to  the  distant  Hegau. 

"Armed?" 

"  The  servants  of  God  are  always  armed  ;  the  Lord 
is  their  shield  and  sword." 

"  Well  said,"  laughed  the  Hun.  "  Why  didst  thou 
remain  behind  ?  " 


254  EKKEHARD 

Heribald  became  embarrassed.  He  had  too  much 
pride  to  betray  the  true  reason :  that  is  to  say,  his 
torn  shoes.  "  Heribald,"  he  replied,  "is  curious,  and 
wanted  to  see  what  the  sons  of  the  Devil  are  like." 

Ellak  translated  the  monk's  polite  speech  to  his 
companions,  who  struck  up  a  loud  guffaw. 

"You  need  not  laugh,"  cried  Heribald,  angrily. 
"  We  know  very  well  what  you  are  !  Abbot  Waz- 
mann  has  told  us." 

"  I  shall  have  thee  killed,"  said  Ellak,  carelessly. 

"  That  will  only  serve  me  right,"  returned  Heri- 
bald.    "  Why  did  I  not  escape  with  the  others  ?  " 

Ellak  cast  a  searching  look  at  the  queer  fellow, 
and  another  idea  struck  him.  He  beckoned  to  the 
standard-bearer,  who  approached,  swinging  in  the  air 
his  flag  with  the  green  cat. 

This  was  the  cat  which  had  once  appeared  to  King 
Etzel  in  his  youth.  In  a  dreamy  mood,  he  was  sit- 
ting in  his  uncle  Rugila's  tent;  he  was  melancholy, 
and  was  deliberating  whether  he  had  not  better  be- 
come a  Christian,  and  serve  God  and  science ;  just 
then  the  cat  came  in.  Among  Rugila's  treasures 
she  had  found  the  golden  imperial  globe  which  had 
made  part  of  the  booty  at  Byzantium ;  this  she  held 
in  her  paws  and  played  with  it  and  rolled  it  back 
and  forth.     And  an  inward  voice  said  to  Etzel :  — 

"  Thou  shalt  not  become  a  monk,  but  thou  shalt 
play  with  the  round  earth,  as  the  cat  plays  with  that 
golden  bawble." 

Then  he  became  aware  that  Kutka,  the  God  of 
the  Huns,  had  appeared  to  him,  and  so  he  bran- 
dished his  sword  toward  the  four  quarters  of  the 


HER  IB  A  LD   AND   HIS   GUESTS         255 

world,  let  his  finger-nails  grow,  and  became  what  he 
was  destined  to  become,  Attila,  king  of  the  Huns, 
the  scourge  of  God  !  .  .  . 

"  Kneel  down,  miserable  monk,"  cried  Ellak  from 
his  horse,  "  and  worship  him  whom  thou  seest 
painted  on  this  flag !  " 

But  Heribald  stood  immovable. 

"  I  don't  know  him,"  said  he,  with  a  hollow  laugh. 

"  'T  is  the  God  of  the  Huns !  "  angrily  cried  the 
chieftain.  "  Down  on  thy  knees,  cowlbearer,  or  "  .  .  . 
He  pointed  to  his  crooked  sword. 

Heribald  laughed  once  more,  and,  putting  his  fore- 
finger to  his  forehead,  said  :  — 

"  If  you  think  that  Heribald  is  so  easily  imposed 
upon,  you  are  vastly  mistaken.  It  is  written  :  when 
God  created  heaven  and  earth,  and  darkness  was 
upon  the  face  of  the  deep,  he  said :  '  Let  there  be 
light ! '  If  God  were  a  cat,  he  would  not  have 
said  :  '  Let  there  be  light ! '  Heribald  will  not  kneel 
down  .  .  ." 

A  Hunnic  rider  stealthily  approached,  pulled  the 
monk's  garment,  and  whispered  in  excellent  Suabian 
in  his  ear :  — 

"  Friend,  I  would  kneel  down,  if  I  were  in  your 
place.     They  are  dangerous  people." 

The  Warner's  real  name  was  Sneweliri,  and  his 
birthplace  was  Ellwangen  in  the  Riesgau ;  by  birth 
he  was  a  genuine  Suabian,  but  in  the  course  of  time 
he  had  become  a  Hun,  and  done  well  by  it.  And  he 
spoke  with  a  peculiar  windy  tone  in  his  voice,  for 
he  had  lost  four  of  his  front  teeth,  besides  several 
molars  ;  and  this  was  the  real  reason  why  he  was  to 
be  found  among  the  Huns. 


256  EKKEHARD 

In  his  younger  days,  as  it  happened,  when  he  was 
still  earning  a  peaceful  livelihood  at  home  as  cart- 
driver  of  the  little  Salvator  monastery,  he  had  been 
sent  with  a  strong  convoy,  under  imperial  protec- 
tion, with  a  cart-load  of  bright-colored  Neckar-wine, 
north  to  the  great  market  at  Magdeburg.^"'^  To 
that  town  resorted  the  priests  of  the  heathenish 
Pomeranians  and  Wends,  to  buy  their  libation  wine  ; 
and  Snewelin  made  an  excellent  bargain  when  he 
sold  his  wine  to  the  white-bearded  chief  priest  of 
the  three-headed  God  Triglaf,^"^  for  the  great  temple 
at  Stettin. 

But  afterwards  he  remained  sitting  over  the  wine 
with  the  white-bearded  heathen,  who  enjoyed  the 
Suabian  nectar  and  became  enthusiastic  and  began 
to  praise  his  native  land  and  said  that  the  world 
was  infinitely  more  advanced  in  their  parts,  between 
the  Oder  and  the  Spree.  And  he  tried  to  convert 
Snewelin  to  the  w^orship  of  Triglaf  the  three-headed, 
and  of  the  black  and  white  Sun-god  Radegast,  and 
of  Radomysl,  the  Goddess  of  joyous  thoughts ; 
but  this  was  rather  too  much  for  the  man  of 
Ellwangen. 

"  You  are  an  abominable  Wendish  swindler,'' 
he  exclaimed,  and  upset  the  wine-table,  and  flew 
at  him,  like  the  young  hero  Siegfried  when  he 
attacked  the  wild,  long-bearded  dwarf  Alberich ; 
he  had  a  hand-to-hand  contest  with  him,  and  at 
one  strong  tug  pulled  out  the  half  of  his  gray 
beard  !  But  his  antagonist  called  on  Triglaf  the 
three-headed  to  help  him,  dealt  him  a  blow  on 
the  jaw  with  his  iron-mounted  staff,  which  forever 


HE  RIBALD  AND  HIS  GUESTS         257 

destroyed  the  beauty  of  his  teeth ;  and  before  the 
toothless  Suabian  cart-driver  had  recovered  from 
the  blow,  his  white-bearded  antagonist  had  taken  his 
departure,  so  that  he  could  not  wreak  his  revenge  on 
him. 

But  when  Snewelin  walked  out  of  the  gates  of 
Magdeburg,  he  shook  his  fist  northwards,  and 
said  :  — 

"  We  two  shall  meet  again,  some  day  !  " 
At  his  home  he  was  greatly  ridiculed  on  account  of 
his  lost  teeth  ;  so,  in  sheer  spite,  he  went  amongst  the 
Huns,  hoping  that  when  these  should  ride  north- 
wards, he  would  be  able  to  settle  a  heavy  ac- 
count with  the  three-headed  Triglaf  and  all  his 
worshippers.  .  .  . 

Heribald  heeded  not  the  curious  horseman.  The 
Forest  woman  had  got  down  from  her  cart,  and  ap- 
proached Ellak.  With  a  grimace  she  looked  at  the 
monk. 

"  I  have  read  in  the  stars,"  she  cried,  "  that  evil 
threatens  us  at  the  hands  of  bald-shaven  men.  To 
prevent  the  coming  danger,  you  ought  to  hang  up 
this  miserable  creature  before  the  monastery  gate, 
with  his  face  turned  toward  yon  mountains  !  " 

"  Hang  him  up,"  shouted  many  in  the  crowd,  the 
old  woman's  pantomime  having  been  understood. 

Ellak  had  once  more  turned  toward  Erica. 

"And  so  this   monster  has   principles,"  said   he, 
scornfully.     "  It  would    save   his   life,    and   yet   he 
refuses   to   bend   his   knees.      Shall   we   have   him 
hanged,  Flower-of-the-heath  ?  " 
VOL.  I.  —  17 


258  EKKEHARD 

Heribald's  life  hung  on  a  slender  thread.  Round 
about  he  saw  sinister  faces  :  his  courage  began  to 
fail  him,  he  was  ready  to  weep ;  but  in  the  hour  of 
danger,  even  the  most  foolish  are  often  guided  by  a 
happy  instinct.  Like  a  star  shone  Erica's  rosy  face 
before  him,  and  with  timid  steps  he  sprang  to  her 
through  the  throng.  To  kneel  before  her  was  not 
such  a  difficult  task  for  him  ;  her  sweet  looks  inspired 
him  with  confidence.  With  out-stretched  arms  he 
implored  her  protection. 

"  There !  "  cried  the  Flower-of-the-heath,  "  the  man 
of  the  island  is  not  so  foolish  as  he  looks.  He  pre- 
fers kneeling  to  Erica,  instead  of  the  green  and  red 
flag." 

She  smiled  graciously  on  the  pitiful  suppliant, 
leaped  from  her  saddle,  and  patted  him  as  if  he  were 
some  half-wild  animal. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,*'  said  she  ;  "  thou  shalt  live,  poor 
old  black-coat!  "  and  Heribald  read  in  her  eyes  that 
she  meant  what  she  said.  He  pointed  to  the  Forest 
woman,  who  had  frightened  him  most.  Erica  shook 
her  head :  "  she  shall  not  harm  thee." 

Then  Heribald  ran  joyously  to  the  wall :  lilacs  and 
wild  roses  were  already  blooming  there ;  hastily  he 
tore  off  some  of  their  branches,  and  presented  them 
to  the  Hunnic  maiden. 

Loud  shouts  of  delight  rang  through  the  monastery 
yard.i"* 

'-  Hail  to  the  Flcnver-of-the-heath,"  cried  they  all, 
clashing  their  arms  together. 

"  Shout  with  them,"  whispered  the  man  from  Ell- 
wansren  into  Heribald's  ear.     So  he  also  raised  his 


HE  RIBALD  AND   HIS   GUESTS         259 

voice  and  cried  a  hoarse  "  hurrah  !  "  Tears  stood  in 
his  eyes. 

The  Huns  unsaddled  their  horses.  As  a  pack  of 
hounds,  at  evening,  after  the  chase  is  over,  wait  for 
the  moment  when  the  entrails  of  the  deer  are  thrown 
to  them  as  their  portion,  —  here  one  pulls  at  the  cord 
that  restrains  him,  there  another  is  barking  fiercely 
with  impatience,  —  so  stood  the  Huns  before  the 
monastery.  At  last  Ellak  gave  the  signal  that  the 
pillage  might  begin.  In  wild  disorder  they  dashed 
along  the  corridors,  up  the  staircase,  into  the  church. 
Confused  cries  resounded  —  of  expected  booty  and 
disappointed  hopes.  The  cells  of  the  brotherhood 
were  searched,  but  nothing  was  found  except  the 
scanty  furniture. 

"  Show  us  the  treasury,"  said  they  to  Heribald, 
who  did  so  willingly ;  he  knew  that  whatever  was  the 
most  precious  had  been  taken  away.  Only  plated 
candlesticks  and  the  big  emerald  of  colored  glass 
were  still  there. 

"  Miserable  monastery  !  The  beggars !  "  cried 
one,  and  with  his  mailed  boot  he  stamped  on  the 
false  jewel,  so  that  a  great  crack  shot  through  it. 
They  rewarded  Heribald  with  heavy  blows,  so  he 
stole  sorrowfully  away. 

In  the  cross-passage  Snewelin  met  him. 

"Friend,"  he  cried,  "I  am  an  old  wine-carrier; 
tell  me  where  is  your  cellar  ?  " 

Heribald  led  him  down,  and  chuckled  contentedly 
when  he  saw  that  the  chief  entrance  had  been  walled 
up.  With  a  knowing  look  he  winked  at  the  fresh 
lime,  as  if  to  say  that  he  well  knew  its  secret. 


260  EKKEHARD 

The  man  of  Ellwangen  without  much  ado  cut  off 
the  seals  on  one  of  the  tuns,  tapped  it,  and  filled  his 
helmet.     It  was  a  long,  long  draught  that  he  took. 

"O  Hahnenkamm  and  Heidenheim  !  "  *  exclaimed 
he,  shivering  as  with  the  ague,  "  for  this  beverage  I 
verily  need  not  have  joined  the  Huns ! " 

He  ordered  his  companions  to  carry  up  the  butts, 
but  Heribald  stepped  anxiously  forwards  and  pulled 
one  of  the  desecrators  by  his  gown  :  "  Allow  me,  good 
man,"  said  he,  in  pathetic  accents,  "  but  what  am  I 
to  drink  when  you  are  gone  away  ? "  ^'^^ 

Snewelin  laughingly  reported  the  monk's  anxiety 
to  the  others. 

"  The  fool  must  have  something,"  they  said,  put- 
ting back  the  smallest  tun  unopened.  Such  kindness 
touched  Heribald,  and  he  shook  hands  with  them. 

Out  in  the  courtyard  arose  a  wild  din.  Some 
had  been  searching  the  church,  and  had  also  lifted 
a  grave-stone,  from  under  which  a  bleached  skull 
grinned  at  them  out  of  its  dark  cowl.  This  fright- 
ened even  the  Huns  back.  Two  of  the  gang 
mounted  the  church-tower,  the  spire  of  which  was 
adorned  with  a  gilt  weathercock,  according  to  cus- 
tom. Whether  they  took  it  to  be  the  protecting  God 
of  the  monastery,  or  imagined  it  to  be  real  gold,  they 
climbed  up  the  roof  of  the  tower,  and  audaciously 
sitting  there,  tried  to  bring  the  cock  down  with  their 
lances. 

Then  a  sudden  giddiness  came  over  them.  One 
let  his  raised  arm  sink,  —  a  false  step  —  aery;  and 
down  he  fell,  the  other  after  him.  With  broken 
necks  they  lay  in  the  cloister-yard. ^'^^ 

*  Notoriously  sour,  bad  wines. 


HE  RIBALD   AND  HIS  GUESTS         26 1 

"  A  bad  omen,"  said  Ellak  to  himself. 

The  Huns  uttered  a  howl,  but  a  few  moments  later 
the  accident  was  entirely  forgotten.  The  sword  had 
already  snatched  away  so  many  of  their  companions 
—  what  mattered  two  more  or  less  ? 

The  bodies  were  carried  into  the  cloister  garden. 
With  the  logs  which  Heribald  had  upset  in  the  early 
morning,  a  funeral-pile  was  erected ;  the  books  left 
in  the  libraries  had  been  thrown  down  into  the  court ; 
these  were  brought  as  kindling,  and  were  used  in 
filling  up  the  gaps  between  the  logs. 

Ellak  and  Hornebog  were  walking  together  through 
the  ranks.  Squeezed  in  between  the  logs  sadly  looked 
a  neatly-written  manuscript ;  the  shining  golden  ini- 
tials glittered  on  the  JDroken  pages.  Hornebog,  draw- 
ing his  crooked  sword,  pierced  the  parchment  with 
it,  and  held  it  out  to  his  companion,  stuck  on  the 
point  of  the  blade. 

"  What  do  these  hooks  and  chickens'  feet  mean, 
brother  ?  "  asked  he. 

Ellak  took  the  punctured  book,  and  glanced  over 
some  of  its  pages.     He  also  knew  Latin, 

"  Western  wisdom,"  replied  he.  "  A  man  named 
Boethius  wrote  it,  and  there  are  many  fine  things  in 
it  about  the  comfort  of  Philosophy." 

"  Phi  —  lo  —  so  —  phy,"  slowly  repeated  Hornebog, 
"  what  kind  of  comfort  is  that,  brother?  " 

"It  does  not  mean  a  pretty  woman,  nor  yet  fire- 
water, either,"  was  Ellak's  reply.  "  It  is  difficult 
to  describe  it  in  Hunnish  ...  If  a  man  does  not 
know  why  he  is  in  the  world,  and  stands  on  his 
head  to  find  out  the  reason,  that  is  about  what  they 


262  EKKEHARD 

call  Philosophy  in  these  western  lands.  He  who 
comforted  himself  with  it  in  his  water-tower  at 
Pavia  was  after  all  beaten  to  death  on  that  very 
account."  .  .  . 

"  It  served  him  right ! "  exclaimed  Hornebog. 
*'  He  who  holds  a  sword  in  his  hand,  and  has  a  horse 
between  his  thighs,  knows  why  he  is  in  the  world ; 
and  if  we  did  not  know  the  reason  better  than  those 
who  scratch  such  hooks  on  asses'  skins,  then  they 
would  be  on  our  heels  at  the  Danube,  and  we  should 
not  be  watering  our  horses  in  the  Suabian  sea." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  lucky  that  such 
trash  is  made  ?  "  continued  Ellak,  throwing  back  the 
Boethius  on  the  funeral-pile. 
"  Why  so?"  asked  Hornebogj 
"  Because  the  hand  which  guides  the  pen  is  never 
fit  to  wield  the  sword  so  as  to  make  a  good  gash  in 
the  flesh;  and  when  the  nonsense  which  one  single 
head  hatched  is  once  written  down,  then  at  least  a 
hundred  others  will  muddle  their  brains  with  it.  A 
hundred  blockheads  more  make  a  hundred  soldiers 
less,  which  is  clearly  enough  our  advantage,  when- 
ever we  choose  to  make  an  invasion.  So  long  as 
they  in  the  West  write  books  and  hold  synods  my 
children  may  safely  carry  their  camp  forward! 
that 's  what  the  great  Etzel  himself  said." 

"  Praised  be  the  great    Etzel ! "    said   Hornebog, 
reverently. 

Then  a  voice  cried,  '.'  Let  the  dead  rest!" 
With  dancing  steps   Erica  came  toward  the  two 
chieftains.     She  had  examined  the  monastery  booty; 
an  altar-cloth  of  red  silk  found  grace  in  her  eyes,  and 


HERIBALD   AND  HIS  GUESTS         263 

she  put  it  on  like  a  mantle,  —  the  corners  lightly 
thrown  back  over  her  shoulders. 

"How  do  you  like  me  so?"  she  asked,  turning 
her  little  head  complacently  about. 

"  The  Flower-of-the-heath  requires  no  finery  of 
Suabian  idolaters  to  please  us,"  sternly  replied 
Ellak. 

Then  she  jumped  up  at  him,  stroked  his  lank 
black  hair,  and  called  out :  — 

"  Come,  the  meal  is  ready." 

They  went  to  the  courtyard.  The  Huns  had 
strewn  about  all  the  hay  supply  of  the  monastery, 
and  were  lying  down  on  it  waiting  for  the  repast. 

With  folded  arms,  Heribald  stood  in  the  back- 
ground, looking  down  at  them. 

"  The  Devil's  curs  cannot  even  sit  down  like 
Christians,  when  they  are  about  to  eat  their  daily 
bread."  These  were  his  thoughts,  but  he  took  good 
care  not  to  utter  them  aloud.  Experience  of  frequent 
blows  teaches  silence. 

"  Lie  down,  black-coat;  thou  mayst  eat  also,"  cried 
Erica,  and  signed  to  him  to  follow  the  example  of 
the  others.  He  looked  at  the  man  of  Ellwangen, 
who  was  lying  there  with  crossed  legs,  as  if  he  had 
never  known  what  it  was  to  sit  otherwise.  So  Heri- 
bald tried  to  follow  his  example ;  but  he  soon  got  up 
again:  this  position  seemed  to  him  too  undignified. 
So  he  fetched  a  chair  out  of  the  monastery,  and  sat 
down  with  the  rest. 

An  ox  had  been  roasted  on  a  spit ;  whatever  else 
the  cloister  kitchen  provided  was  utilized  ;  and  they 
fell  to  with  ravenous  hunger.     The  meat  was  cut  off 


264  EKKEHARD 

with  their  short  sabres,  the  fingers  ser\'ing  as  knife 
and  fork.  On  end  in  the  courtyard  stood  the  big 
wine-tun ;  every  one  dipped  out  as  much  as  he  liked. 
Here  and  there  a  finely  wrought  chalice  was  used  as 
a  drinking-cup. 

They  gave  Heribald  also  as  much  wine  as  he 
wished  for,  but  when  with  silent  contentment  he  was 
sipping  it,  a  half-gnawed  bone  flew  at  his  head.  He 
looked  up  sorrowfully,  but  saw  that  many  another  of 
the  feasters  met  with  the  same  fate.  To  throw  bones 
at  one  another  was  a  Hunnic  custom  instead  of 
dessert. 

Wine-warm,  they  began  a  rough  and  unmelodious 
singing.i'"^  Two  of  the  younger  horsemen  sang  an 
old  song  in  honor  of  King  Etzel,  in  which  it  was  said 
that  he  had  been  a  conqueror  not  only  with  the 
sword,  but  also  with  his  charms  of  person.  Then 
followed  a  satirical  stanza  on  a  Roman  emperor's 
sister,  who  fell  in  love  with  him  from  a  distance  and 
offered  him  her  heart  and  hand,  which,  however,  he 
refused. 

Like  the  screeching  of  owls  and  the  croaking  of 
toads  rang  the  chorus.  Then  some  of  them  came 
to  Heribald,  and  made  him  understand  that  he 
also  was  expected  to  give  them  a  song.  He  tried  to 
avoid  it ;  but  to  no  avail.  So  he  sang  in  an  almost 
sobbing  voice  the  antiphon  in  honor  of  the  holy 
cross,  beginning  with  the  "  Sanctijica  tiosT 

With  astonishment  the  drunken  men  listened  to  the 
long  whole  notes  of  the  old  church  chant :  the  strange 
melody  sounded  like  a  voice  in  the  wilderness. 

With  rising  anger  the  Forest  woman,  sitting  beside 


HER /BALD   AND   HIS   GUESTS         265 

the  copper  kettle,  also,  heard  it.  With  her  knife  she 
stole  over,  seized  Heribald  by  his  hair,  and  was  going 
to  cut  off  his  locks,  —  the  greatest  insult  that  could  he 
offered  to  a  tonsured  priest's  consecrated  head. 

But  Heribald  pushed  her  back,  and  chanted  on 
undaunted.  This  pleased  the  assembly ;  they  shouted 
with  delight.  Cymbals  and  violins  again  resounded, 
and  now  the  Flower-of-the-heath  approached  the 
monk ;  the  monotonous  chant  had  become  tiresome 
to  her ;  with  mocking  pity  she  seized  him. 

"  After  song  comes  dancing  !  "  she  cried,  and  drew 
him  into  the  whirl  of  the  wild  dance.^'^^ 

Heribald  knew  not  what  happened  to  him.  Erica's 
swelling  bosom  pressed  up  to  him. 

"  Whether  Heribald  dances  or  not,  it  will  be  only 
another  small  link  in  the  great  chain  of  abomina- 
tions," he  reasoned ;  so  he  bravely  stamped  the 
ground  with  his  sandal-clad  feet;  his  cowl  flew 
about  him.  Tighter  and  tighter  he  pressed  the 
Hunnic  maiden,  and  who  knows  what  might 
still  have  happened  .  .  .  With  heightened  color  she 
finally  stopped,  gave  her  partner  a  little  parting 
slap  in  the  face,  and  ran  off  to  the  chieftains,  who, 
with  serious  faces,  were  looking  on  at  the  frenzied 
throng. 

The  festivities  were  coming  to  an  end  ;  the  effects 
of  the  wine  were  passing  away.  Then  Ellak  gave 
the  order  to  burn  the  dead.  In  a  moment's  time,  the 
whole  troop  were  on  horseback,  and  riding  in  closed 
ranks  to  the  funeral-pile.  The  two  dead  men's 
horses  were  stabbed  by  the  oldest  of  the  Huns,  and 


266  EKKEHARD 

laid  beside  their  late  master's  bodies.  The  gray- 
haired  Hun  repeated  an  impressive  conjuration  over 
the  assembly,  then  he  lifted  the  fire-brand  and  lighted 
the  pile.  Boethius'  •'  Comfort  of  Philosophy,"  pine 
logs,  manuscripts,  and  corpses  vied  with  one  another 
in  burning  the  brightest,  and  a  mighty  pillar  of  smoke 
rose  up  to  the  sky. 

With  wrestling,  warlike  exercises  and  races,  the 
memory  of  the  dead  was  celebrated.  The  sun  was 
sinking  in  the  west.  The  whole  body  of  Huns  passed 
the  night  in  the  monastery. 

It  was  on  the  Thursday  before  Easter,  when  all 
this  happened  on  the  island  of  Reichenau.  The 
tidings  of  this  invasion  soon  reached  the  fishermen's 
huts  around  Radolfszell.  When  Moengal,  the  par- 
ish priest,  held  the  early  morning  service,  he  still 
counted  six  of  his  pious  flock ;  in  the  afternoon  there 
were  only  three,  including  himself. 

Angrily  he  was  sitting  in  the  little  room  in  which 
he  had  once  hospitably  entertained  Ekkehard  ;  then 
the  pillar  of  smoke  from  the  Hunnic  funeral-pile 
rose  into  the  air.  tje  stepped  to  the  window.  It 
was  dense  and  black  as  if  the  whole  monastery  were 
in  flames;  the  scent  of  burning  came  over  the  lake. 

"  Hihahoi !  "  cried  Moengal;  '■'■Jam  proximiis 
ardet  Ucalcgon,  —  already  it  is  burning  at  neighbor 
Ucalegon's  !  Then  I  must  also  get  my  house  ready. 
Out  with  ye  now,  my  old  Cambutta !  "  ^"^ 

Cambutta  was  no  servnng-maid,  but  a  huge  blud- 
geon, a  genuine  Irish  shillelah,  Aloengal's  favorite 
weapon. 


HERIBALD   AND   HIS   GUESTS         267 

He  packed  the  chalice  and  the  ciborium  into  his 
doeskin  game-bag.  Nothing  else  of  gold  or  silver 
did  he  possess.  Then  he  called  together  his  hounds, 
his  hawk,  and  two  falcons  ;  he  flung  to  them  all  the 
meat  and  fish  his  pantry  boasted. 

"  Eat  as  much  as  ever  you  can,  children,"  said  he, 
"so  that  nothing  be  left  for  those  cursed  plagues!  " 

The  butt  in  the  cellar  he  knocked  to  pieces,  so 
that  the  sparkling  wine  streamed  forth. 

"  Not  a  drop  of  wine  shall  the  devils  drink  in 
MoengaFs  parsonage. 

Only  the  jug  containing  the  vinegar  was  left  in- 
tact. On  the  crystal-clear  butter  in  the  wooden 
cask  he  emptied  a  basketful  of  ashes.  His  fishing- 
tackle  and  sporting-utensils  he  buried ;  then  he 
smashed  the  windows,  and  carefully  strewed  the 
fragments  about  in  the  rooms.  Some  he  even  put 
into  the  chinks  of  the  floor,  with  the  points  turned 
up,  —  all  in  honor  of  the  Huns'  He  let  the  hawk 
and  falcons  fly  away. 

"Farewell!"  he  cried,  "and  keep  near;  for  soon 
there  will  be  dead  heathen  to  pick  !  " 

So  his  house  was  put  in  order.  Hanging  the  game- 
bag,  as  well  as  a  Hibernian  leather  canteen,  over 
his  shoulders,  with  two  spears  in  his  hands,  and 
Cambutta  the  shillelah  fastened  on  his  back,  —  thus, 
a  valiant  champion  of  the  Lord,  old  Moengal  walked 
out  of  his  parsonage,  which  had  been  his  home  for  so 
many  years. 

He  had  already  gone  quite  a  distance;  the  sky  was 
darkened  with  smoke  and  ashes.  "Wait  a  bit!  "  he 
cried.     "  I  have  forgotten  somethins:." 


268  EKKEHARD 

He  retraced  his  steps  :  — 

"  The  yellow-faced  rascals  deserve  at  least  a  word 
of  welcome." 

He  drew  a  piece  of  red  chalk  from  his  pocket, 
and  therewith  wrote  in  large  Irish  characters  a  few 
words  on  the  gray  sandstone  slab  over  the  door. 
Later  rains  have  washed  them  away,  and  no  one 
ever  deciphered  them ;  but  no  doubt  it  was  a  signi- 
ficant greeting  which  old  Moengal  left  behind  him 
in  Irish  runes. 

He  struck  off  at  a  swift  pace,  and  turned  toward 
the  Hohentwiel. 


THE  BATTLE    WITH  THE  HUNS     269 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE   BATTLE   WITH    THE   HUNS. 

Good  Friday  had  come;  but  the  anniversary  of 
our  Saviour's  death  was  not  kept  on  the  Hohentwiel 
this  time  in  the  silent  way  which  the  prescriptions 
of  the  church  require.  Old  Moengal's  arrival  had 
dissipated  all  doubts  as  to  the  enemy's  approach. 
Late  in  the  night  they  held  a  war-council  and  de- 
termined unanimously  to  go  out  to  meet  the  Huns  in 
open  battle. 

The  sun  rose  drearily ;  soon  it  was  hidden  again 
in  mist.  A  fierce  gale  blew  over  the  land,  chasing 
the  clouds  along,  so  that  they  sank  down  on  the 
distant  Bodensee,  as  if  water  and  air  were  striving 
to  mingle.  Now  and  then  a  sun-beam  struggled 
through.  It  was  the  as  yet  undecided  battle  which 
Spring  was  waging  against  the  powers  of  Winter. 

The  men  had  already  risen,  and  were  preparing 
for  a  serious  day's  work. 

In  his  watch-tower  room  Ekkehard  was  silently 
pacing  up  and  down,  his  hands  folded  in  prayer. 
An  honorable  commission  had  devolved  on  him. 
He  was  to  preach  a  sermon  to  the  united  forces 
before  they  went  out  to  battle,  and  so  he  was  now 
praying  for  strength  and  inspiration,  that  his  words 
might  be  like  glowing  sparks  to  kindle  the  warlike 
flame  in  each  heart. 


270  EKKEHARD 

Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  in  came  the 
duchess,  unaccompanied  by  Praxedis.  Over  her 
morning-dress  she  had  thrown  an  ample  cloak,  to 
protect  herself  against  the  cool  air ;  perhaps,  also, 
that  she  might  not  be  recognized  by  the  stranger 
guests,  while  going  over  to  the  watch-tower.  A 
faint  blush  mantled  on  her  cheeks  when  she  thus 
stood  alone,  opposite  her  youthful  teacher. 

"  Are  you  also  going  out  to  battle  to-day  ?  "  asked 
she. 

"  Yes,  I  go  with  the  others,"  replied  Ekkehard. 

"  I  should  despise  you,  if  you  had  given  me  any 
other  reply,"  said  the  noble  lady;  "and  you  have 
justly  taken  for  granted  that  it  would  not  be  neces- 
sary to  ask  my  leave  for  such  an  expedition.  But 
have  you  not  thought  of  saying  Good-bye?"  added 
she,  in  low,  reproachful  accents, 

Ekkehard  was  embarrassed. 

"  Far  more  important,  nobler,  and  better  men  are 
leaving  your  castle  to-day,"  said  he.  "  The  abbots 
and  knights  will  surround  you ;  —  how  then  could  I 
think  of  taking  a  special  leave  of  you,  even  if  .  .  ." 

His  voice  came  to  a  stand-still. 

The  duchess  looked  into  his  eyes.  Neither  said  a 
word. 

"  I  have  brought  you  something  which  will  be  use- 
ful to  you  in  battle,"  said  she,  after  a  while.  She 
carried  under  her  mantle  a  costly  sword  with  a  rich 
shoulder-belt.  A  milk-white  agate  adorned  the  hilt. 
"  It  is  the  sword  of  Herr  Burkhard,  my  late  husband. 
Of  all  the  weapons  he  possessed,  he  valued  this  the 
most.     'With  that  blade  one  could  split  rocks,  with- 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE   HUNS     27 1 

out  breaking  it,'  he  said  many  a  time.  You  will  win 
glory  with  it  to-day." 

She  held  out  the  sword  to  him;  Ekkehard  re- 
ceived it  in  silence.  He  already  wore  his  coat-of- 
mail  under  his  habit.  Now  he  buckled  cm  the 
shoulder-belt  and  seized  the  hilt  with  his  right  hand, 
as  if  the  enemy  were  already  facing  him. 

"  I  have  something  else  for  you,"  continued  Frau 
Hadwig. 

On  a  silk  ribbon  round  her  neck  she  wore  a  jewel 
in  a  golden  setting.  This  she  now  drew  forth  from 
her  bosom.  It  was  a  crystal  covering  an  insignifi- 
cant-looking splinter  of  wood. 

"  If  my  prayers  should  not  suffice,  then  may  this 
relic  protect  you  !  It  is  a  spHnter  of  the  holy  cross, 
which  the  Empress  Helena  discovered.  '  Wherever 
this  relic  is  there  will  be  peace,  happiness,  and  pure 
air,' 180  wrote  the  Greek  patriarch  who  attested  its 
genuineness.  May  it  now  bring  a  blessing  in  the 
coming  battle !" 

She  leaned  toward  the  monk  to  hang  the  jewel 
round  his  neck.  He  bent  his  knees  to  receive  it; 
long  it  had  been  hanging  round  his  neck,  and  still 
he  knelt  before  her.  She  passed  her  hand  lightly 
over  his  curly  hair,  and  there  was  a  peculiarly  soft 
and  melancholy  expression  on  the  usually  haughty 
countenance. 

Ekkehard  had  bent  his  knee  at  the  name  of  the 
holy  cross,  but  now  he  felt  as  if  he  must  prostrate 
himself  a  second  time  —  prostrate  himself  before 
her  who  had  so  graciously  remembered  him. 

A  budding  affection  requires  time  clearly  to  un- 


272  EKKEHARD 

derstand  itself;  and  in  matters  of  love  he  had  not 
learned  to  reckon  and  count,  as  in  the  verses  of  Ver- 
gil, or  he  might  have  guessed  that  she  who  had 
taken  him  away  from  his  quiet  monastery-cell  —  that 
she  wtio  that  evening  on  the  Hohenkrahen,  and  now 
again  on  the  morning  of  battle,  had  stood  before  him 
as  Frau  Hadwig  did,  might  well  have  expected  a 
word  from  the  depths  of  his  heart,  —  perhaps  even 
more  than  a  word. 

His  thoughts  quickly  followed  one  another;  all 
his  pulses  were  throbbing. 

If  on  former  occasions  anything  like  love  had 
stirred  in  him,  then  the  reverence  for  his  mistress 
had  driven  it  back,  as  the  storm  slams  the  shutters 
in  the  face  of  the  child  looking  timidly  out  of  the 
dormer  window.  At  this  moment,  however,  he  was 
not  thinking  of  that  reverence,  but  rather  of  how  he 
had  once  carried  the  duchess  boldly  across  the  mon- 
astery-yard. Neither  did  he  think  of  his  monastic 
vow  ;  but  something  stirred  in  him,  and  he  felt  as  if 
he  must  rush  into  her  arms,  and  exultingly  press  her 
to  his  heart.  Herr  Burkhard's  sword  seemed  to 
burn  at  his  side. 

"  Throw  aside  all  timidity.  The  world  belongs  to 
the  bold." 

Were  not  these  words  to  be  read  in  Frau  Hadwig's 
eyes  ? 

He  stood  up;  strong,  great,  and  free,  —  she  had 
never  seen  him  look  so  before,  .  .  .  but  it  lasted 
only  a  second.  As  yet  not  one  sound  betraying  his 
inward  struggle  had  escaped  his  lips  ;  then  his  eye 
fell  on  the  dark  ebony  cross  which  Mncentius  had 
once  hung  up  in  his  tower-room. 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE   HUNS      273 

"  It  is  the  day  of  the  Lord,  and  thou  shalt  speak 
to-day  before  his  people  !  " 

The  remembrance  of  his  duty  drove  away  all  other 
thoughts.   .   .  . 

Once  there  came  a  frost,  on  a  summer  morning, 
and  grass  and  leaves  and  blossoms  grew  black  and 
seared,  before  the  sun  rose  over  them.  .  .  . 

Shyly  as  ever  before,  he  took  Frau  Hadwig's  hand. 

"  How  shall  I  thank  my  mistress  ?  "  said  he,  in 
broken  accents. 

She  cast  a  searching  look  at  him.  The  soft  ex- 
pression had  vanished  from  her  face ;  the  old  stern- 
ness had  returned  to  her  brow,  as  if  she  meant  to 
say,  ."  If  you  don't  know  how,  I  am  not  going  to  tell 
you ;  "  but  she  said  nothing.  Still  Ekkehard  held 
her  hand  in  his.     She  drew  it  back. 

"  Be  pious  and  brave,"  said  she,  as  she  left  the 
chamber.     It  sounded  Hke  mockery.  .  .  . 

Scarcely  longer  than  a  person  needs  to  say  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  had  the  duchess  been  with  Ekkehard ; 
but  more  had  happened  than  he  suspected. 

He  resumed  his  walk  up  and  down  the  tower-room. 

Thou  shalt  deny  thyself  aiid follow  the  Lord. 

Thus  it  is  laid  down  in  St.  Benedict's  rules  re- 
garding good  works,  and  Ekkehard  felt  almost 
proud  of  the  victory  he  had  won  over  himself;  but 
Frau  Hadwig  had  gone  down  the  winding  staircase 
with  wounded  feelings,  and  when  a  haughty  mind 
believes  itself  to  be  disdained,  evil  days  must  follow. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  Hohentwiel  they  were  having  the 
VOL.  I.—  18 


274  EKKEHARD 

divine  service  before  the  troops  set  forth.  The  altar 
had  been  erected  under  the  old  linden-tree  :  on  it 
were  placed  the  sacred  relics  for  the  comfort  of  be- 
lievers. The  courtyard  was  filled  with  armed  men 
standing  in  close,  orderly  ranks,  as  Simon  Bardo 
had  arranged  them.  Like  the  roll  of  distant  thun- 
der arose  the  processional  chant  of  the  monks. 

The  abbot  of  Reichenau,  wearing  the  black 
palhum  with  the  white  cross,  celebrated  high 
mass. 

After  him,  Ekkehard  mounted  the  altar  steps. 
With  deep  emotion  his  eye  glided  over  the  crowded 
assembly ;  once  more  it  flashed  through  his  mind 
how,  but  a  short  while  before,  he  had  stood  face 
to  face  with  the  duchess  in  the  solitary  chamber; 
then  he  read  the  gospel  of  the  suffering  and  death  of 
the  Saviour.  As  he  read  on,  his  voice  became 
always  clearer  and  more  distinct ;  he  kissed  the  book 
and  then  handed  it  to  the  deacon,  for  him  to  put  it 
back  on  its  silk  cushion.  For  a  moment  he  looked 
up  heavenwards  ;  then  he  began  his  sermon. 

The  throng  listened  with  breathless  attention. 

"  Almost  a  thousand  years  have  passed,"  he  cried, 
"  since  the  Son  of  God  bent  his  head  on  the  cross, 
saying,  '  It  is  finished  ! '  but  w^e  have  not  prepared 
our  souls  to  receive  the  redemption ;  we  have  lived 
in  sin,  and  the  offences  which  we  have  committed 
in  the  hardness  of  our  hearts  cry  out  to  Heaven 
against  us. 

"  Therefore  a  time  of  affliction  has  come  upon  us ; 
glittering  swords  flash  against  us  ;  heathenish  mon- 
sters have  invaded  Christian  lands. 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE  HUNS.      275 

"  But  instead  of  angrily  inquiring,  '  How  long  will 
the  Lord  forbear,  while  he  lets  our  beloved  homes 
become  the  prey  of  such  heathenish  idolaters,'  let 
every  one  strike  his  own  bosom  and  say  :  '  On  ac- 
count of  our  depravity  have  they  been  sent  upon  us.' 
And  if  ye  would  be  delivered  from  them,  think  of 
our  Saviour's  valiant  death ;  and  as  he  took  up  his 
cross  and  bore  it  himself  to  the  place  of  skulls,  seize 
the  sword,  and  seek  each  your  own  Golgotha !  "  .  .  . 

He  pointed  over  to  the  shores  of  the  lake;  then 
he  poured  out  words  of  comfort  and  promise  strong 
as  the  lion's  call  in  the  mountain. 

"  The  times  are  coming  of  which  it  has  been 
written :  — 

"  A  nd  when  the  thousand  years  are  expired^ 
Satan  shall  be  loosed  out  of  his  prison.,  and  shall  go 
out  to  deceive  the  nations  which  are  in  the  fottr 
quarters  of  the  earth,  Gog  and  Magog.,  to  gather 
them  together  to  battle :  the  number  of  whom  is  as 
the  sand  of  the  sea.  And  they  went  up,  on  the 
breadth  of  the  earth.,  and  compassed  the  caynp  of  the 
saints  about,  and  the  beloved  city :  and  fire  came 
down  from  God,  out  of  heaven,  and  devoured  them. 
And  the  devil  that  deceived  them  was  cast  into  the 
lake  of  fire  and  brimstone,  where  the  beast  and  the 
false  prophet  are,  a?id  shall  be  tormented  day  a?id 
night,  for  ever  and  ever.^^'^ 

"And  what  the  seer  at  Patmos  beheld  and  re- 
vealed is  for  us  a  promise  and  pledge  of  victory,  if 
we  go  out  with  purified  hearts  to  meet  the  enemy. 
Let  them  come  on  their  swift  horses  ;  what  will  it 
avail  ?     The  Lord  has  marked  them  as  the  children 


2/6  EKKEHARD 

of  hell ;  therefore  their  face  is  but  a  mockery  of  the 
human  countenance.  They  can  trample  down  the 
harvest  on  our  fields,  and  desecrate  the  altars  of  our 
churches,  but  they  can  not  resist  the  arm  of  men  in 
whom  God  himself  has  inspired  courage. 

"  Therefore  bear  in  mind  that  we  Suabians  must 
always  be  in  the  forefront  ^^-  when  the  fatherland 
has  to  be  defended ;  and  if  in  other  times  it  would 
be  a  dire  sin  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  to  buckle  on 
the  sword  on  his  holy  day,  to-day  he  will  bless  our 
weapons,  and  send  his  saints  to  assist  us,  and  he 
himself  will  fight  in  our  ranks,  —  he  the  Lord  of  hosts, 
who  commands  his  destroying  lightnings  to  flash 
down  from  heaven,  and  opens  the  yawning  chasms 
of  the  depths  when  the  hour  of  fulfilment  has  come." 

With  choice  examples  of  glorious  warlike  deeds 
Ekkehard  then  fired  his  auditors  ;  and  many  a  hand 
fiercely  grasped  the  spear,  and  many  a  foot  was 
lifted  impatiently  from  the  ground,  when  he  spoke 
of  Joshua,  who  with  the  Lord's  help  conquered 
thirty-one  kings  in  the  region  beyond  the  Jordan ;  — 
and  of  Gideon,  who  with  loud-sounding  trumpets 
broke  into  the  camp  of  the  Midianites,  and  drove 
them  before  him  unto  Bethesda  and  Tebbath ;  — 
and  of  the  sally  of  the  men  of  Bethulia,  who,  after 
Judith's  glorious  deed,  smote  the  Assyrians  with  the 
edge  of  the  sword. 

But  at  the  end  he  quoted  the  words  which  Judas 
Maccabaeus  spoke  to  his  people  when  they  encamped 
at  Emaus  in  face  of  the  army  of  King  Antiochus. 

" '  Arm  yourselves,  and  be  valiant  men,  and  be  in 
readiness  against  the    morning,  that   ye   may   fight 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE  HUNS      2'JJ 

with  these  nations  that  are  assembled  together 
against  us  to  destroy  us  and  our  sanctuary ;  for  it  is 
better  to  perish  in  battle  than  to  see  misfortune  be- 
fall our  sanctuary.'     Amen." 

For  a  moment  after  he  had  ended  there  was  per- 
fect silence ;  then  arose  a  crashing  and  clashing  of 
arms.  They  clanged  swords  and  shields  together, 
raised  their  spears,  and  waved  their  "banners  in  the 
air,  —  ancient  tokens  of  heartfelt  approval.  "  Amen  " 
was  repeated  from  all  the  ranks.  Then  they  fell  on 
their  knees;  —  the  high  mass  was  reaching  its  close. 
The  wooden  rattles,  instead  of  the  usual  bell-tones, 
thrilled  them  with  strange  awe.  Every  one  who  had 
not  yet  taken  the  holy  sacrament  went  up  to  the 
altar  to  receive  it. 

But  now  from  the  tower  was  suddenly  heard  the 
cry  :  — 

"  To  arms  !  to  arms  !  the  enemy  !  ^^^  a  dark  mass 
is  coming !  coming  toward  us  from  the  lake.  Riders 
and  horses  !  the  enemy  !  " 

Now  there  was  no  more  restraint  and  no  quiet. 
The  men  stormed  toward  the  gate  as  if  driven  by 
the  Spirit.  Abbot  Wazmann  had  scarcely  time  to 
pronounce  the  blessing. 

So  in  our  days  the  Wendic  fisherman  rushes 
from  Sunday  church,  which  his  priest  holds  on  the 
Rugianic  sea-sands  at  the  time  when  the  shoals  of 
herring  are  approaching.  "  The  fish  are  coming  !  " 
cries  the  watchman  on  the  white  sandy  shore,  and 
the  next  moment  there  is  a  dash  for  the  boats. 
Forsaken  stands  the  clergyman,  gazing  at  the  tumult; 
then  he  also  cuts  short  the  threads  of  his  devotions, 


2/8  EKKEHARD 

and  he  seizes  his  nets,  and  hastens  to  his  dory  to 
wage  war  upon  the  scaly  tribe.   .  .  . 

Thirsting  for  battle,  they  marched  out  of  the 
courtyard,  each  heart  swelling  with  the  soul-stirring 
conviction  that  a  great  moment  was  at  hand.  The 
monks  of  St.  Gall  mustered  sixty-four,  those  of  the 
Reichenau  ninety,  and  of  the  arriere-ban  men  there 
were  above  five  hundred. 

Close  by  the  standard  of  the  brotherhood  of  St. 
Gall  strode  Ekkehard.  It  was  a  crucifix,  veiled  in 
crape,  with  long  black  streamers,  as  the  monastery 
banner  had  been  left  behind. 

On  the  balcony  stood  the  duchess,  waving  her 
white  handkerchief.  Ekkehard  turned  around  and 
looked  up  at  her ;  but  her  eyes  evaded  his,  and  her 
parting  salutation  was  not  meant  for  him. 

Some  of  the  serving-brothers  had  carried  St. 
Mark's  coffin  down  to  the  lower  castle  gate.  All 
who  passed  by  touched  it  with  sword  and  lance- 
point,  then  with  heavy  tread  moved  down  the  castle- 
road. 

In  the  wide  plain  stretching  out  toward  the  lake 
Simon  Bardo  drew  Up  his  troops.  Hei !  how  pleased 
the  old  field-marshal  was  that  his  scar-covered  breast 
again  wore  the  accustomed  mail,  instead  of  the 
monk's  habit !  He  rode  along  in  a  strangely  shaped, 
pointed  steel  morion  ;  his  broad,  jewel-set  girdle  and 
the  golden  hilt  of  his  sword  indicated  the  former 
general. 

"  You  read  the  classics  on  account  of  the  grain- 
mar,^''  he  had  said  to  the  abbots,  who,  mounted  on 
fine  horses,  rode  at  his  side ;  "  but  /  have  learnt  my 


THE  BATTLE    WITH  THE  HUNS     2/9 

handicraft  from  them.  With  the  good  advice  of 
Frontinus  and  Vegetius  something  may  still  be 
achieved  even  now-a-days.  First  we  will  try  the 
battle-array  of  the  Roman  legions ;  for  in  that  posi- 
tion one  can  best  await  the  enemy  and  see  what  he 
means  to  do.  Afterwards  we  are  still  at  liberty  to 
change  our  tactics ;  the  affair  will  not  be  settled  be- 
tween us  in  half  an  hour." 

He  -ordered  the  light  corps  of  the  archers  and 
sling-bearers  to  take  the  lead ;  they  were  to  occupy 
the  border  of  the  wood,  where  they  would  be  shel- 
tered by  the  fir-trees  against  attack  on  horseback. 

"  Aim  low,"  said  he ;  "  even  if  you  hit  the  horse 
insteajd  of  the  rider,  it  is  always  something." 

At  the  sound  of  the  horns  the  troop  hastened  for- 
wards. As  yet,  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  the 
enemy. 

The  men  of  the  arriere-ban  he  arrayed  in  two 
columns.  In  close  ranks,  with  levelled  lances,  they 
slowly  advanced,  —  a  space  of  a  few  steps  remaining 
between  the  two  files.  The  Baron  of  Randegg  and 
the  gaunt  Fridinger  commanded  them. 

The  monks  Simon  Bardo  collected  into  one  com- 
pact body,  and  placed  them  in  the  rear. 

"  Why  this  ?  "  asked  Abbot  Wazmann  ;  he  was  of- 
fended because  the  honor  of  heading  the  attack  was 
not  granted  them.  But  Bardo,  experienced  in  war, 
smilingly  replied :  — 

"Those  are  my  Triarians;  not  because  they  are 
veteran  soldiers,  but  because  they  are  fighting  for 
their  own  warm  nests.  To  be  driven  out  of  house 
and  home  and  bed  makes  swords  cut  keenest  and 


280  EKKEHARD 

spears  thrust  deepest.  Have  no  anxiety;  the  tug  of 
war  will  come  soon  enough  to  the  disciples  of  St. 
Benedict." 

The  Huns  had  left  the  monastery  of  Reichenau  at 
early  dawn.  The  provisions  were  all  consumed,  the 
wine  drunk,  the  church  pillaged  ;  their  day's  work 
was  done. 

Many  a  wrinkle  on  Heribald's  forehead  grew 
smooth  when  the  last  of  the  horsemen  rode  out  of 
the  gate.  He  threw  after  them  a  gold  coin  which 
the  man  from  Elhvangen  had  confidentially  thrust 
into  his  hand. 

"  Friend,  if  thou  shouldst  hear  that  a  mishap  had 
befallen  me,"  said  Snewelin,  "  then  let  a  dozen 
masses  be  read  for  my  poor  soul.  I  have  always 
had  a  friendly  feeling  for  you  and  your  fellow-monks, 
and  how  it  was  that  I  fell  amongst  the  heathens,  I 
myself  can  scarcely  understand.  The  soil  of  Ell- 
wangen  is  unfortunately  too  rough  and  stony  for 
producing  saints." 

Heribald,  however,  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him.  In  the  garden,  he  shovelled  up  the  bones  and 
ashes  of  the  burnt  Huns  and  their  horses,  and  scat- 
tered them  into  the  lake,  even  while  the  Huns  were 
in  the  act  of  crossing  to  the  other  side. 

"  No  heathen  dust  shall  remain  on  the  island," 
said  he. 

"  Then  he  went  to  the  monastery  yard,  and  thought- 
fully stared  at  the  place  where  he  had  been  forced  to 
dance  on  the  day  before. 

The  course  taken  by  the  Huns  led  them  through 


THE  BATTLE    WITH  THE   HUNS      28 1 

the  dark  fir-wood  toward  the  Hohentwiel.  But,  as 
they  went  carelessly  cantering  along,  here  and  there 
a  horse  began  to  stagger ;  arrows  and  missiles  from 
slings  flew  into  their  ranks,  sent  by  invisible  hands. 
The  vanguard  showed  signs  of  hesitation.  "  Why 
do  you  care  for  the  stinging  of  gnats  ? "  cried  Ellak, 
and  he  spurred  his  horse.  "  Forward !  the  plain  is 
the  field  for  cavalry-battle  !  " 

A  dozen  of  his  men  were  ordered  to  stay  behind 
with  the  baggage  in  order  to  skirmish  with  those  in 
the  forest.  The  ground  echoed  with  the  tramp  of 
the  swiftly  advancing  horde.  On  the  plain  they 
opened  their  ranks,  and  with  wild  howls  galloped  out 
against  the  approaching  column  of  the  arriere-ban. 

Far  ahead  rode  Ellak,  with  the  Hunnic  standard- 
bearer,  who  waved  the  green  and  red  flag  over  his 
head.  Then  the  chieftain  lifted  himself  high  in  the 
saddle,  and  uttered  a  piercing  cry,  and  shot  off  the 
first  arrow,  that  the  battle  might  be  opened  according 
to  old  custom. ^^^ 

Now  the  bloody  fight  began  in  good  earnest. 
Little  avail  was  it  to  the  Suabian  warriors  that  they 
stood  firm  and  immovable  like  a  forest  of  lances; 
for  though  the  horses  recoiled,  a  shower  of  arrows 
came  flying  at  them  from  the  distance.  Half  stand- 
ing in  the  stirrups,  with  the  reins  hanging  over  their 
horses'  necks,  even  while  they  were  dashing  at  full 
speed  the  Huns  took  aim;  their  arrows  hit. 

Others  came  swarming  in  from  the  sides ;  woe  to 
the  wounded,  if  his  brethren  did  not  take  him  into 
the  centre. 

Then  the  light-armed  troops  planned  to  dash  out 


282  EKKEHARD 

from  the  fir-wood  and  outflank  the  Huns.  The 
sound  of  the  horn  collected  them  together ;  they 
started  out;  but,  quick  as  thought,  the  enemies' 
horses  were  turned  round,  a  shower  of  arrows  greeted 
them.  They  hesitated  ;  a  few  advanced  ;  these  also 
were  thrown  back  ;  only  Audifax  was  left  bravely 
marching  along.  The  arrows  whizzed  about  him  ; 
but,  without  looking  up  or  looking  back,  he  blew  his 
bag-pipe,  as  was  his  duty.  Thus  he  came  right  into 
the  midst  of  the  Hunnic  riders. 

Suddenly  his  piping  stopped;  for,  in  passing,  one 
of  the  Huns  had  thrown  the  lasso  over  his  head  and 
dragged  him  away  with  him.  Resisting  with  all  his 
might,  Audifax  looked  around ;  not  a  single  man  of 
his  troop  was  to  be  seen. 

"  O  Hadumoth  !  "  cried  he,  mournfully. 

The  rider  took  pity  on  the  brave  fair-haired  boy ; 
instead  of  splitting  his  head,  he  lifted  him  up  on  the 
horse  and  galloped  back.  The  Hunnic  baggage- 
train  had  stopped  under  the  shelter  of  a  hill.  With 
erect  figure  the  Forest  woman  was  standing  on  her 
cart,  intently  gazing  at  the  raging  battle.  She  had 
cared  for  the  first  who  were  wounded,  and  chanted 
powerful  charms  over  the  flowing  blood. 

"  Here  I  bring  you  some  one  to  clean  the  camp- 
kettles  !  "  cried  the  Hunnic  rider,  and  he  threw  the 
shepherd  boy  from  the  horse  so  that  he  fell  right 
into  the  straw-woven  body  of  the  cart,  at  the  old 
woman's  feet. 

"  Welcome,  thou  venomous  little  toad,"  cried  she, 
fiercely;  "thou  shalt  get  thy  reward  for  showing  that 
cowl-bearer  the  way  up  to  my  house !  " 


THE  BATTLE    WITH  THE   HUNS      283 

She  recognized  him  at  once,  and,  dragging  him 
toward  her  by  the  lasso,  tied  him  fast  to  the  cart. 

Audifax  remained  silent,  but  bitter  tears  stood  in 
his  eyes.  He  did  not  weep  because  he  was  taken 
prisoner,  but  he  wept  because  his  hopes  were  again 
disappointed.     "  O   Hadumoth  !  "  sighed  he  again. 

The  midnight  before  he  had  sat  with  the  young 
goose-driver,  hidden  in  a  corner  of  the  fireplace. 

"Thou  shalt  be  safe,"  Hadumoth  had  said;  "here 
is  a  charm  against  all  wounds  !  " 

She  had  boiled  a  brown  snake,  and  anointed  his 
forehead,  shoulders,  and  breast  with  its  fat. 

"  To-morrow  evening  I  shall  wait  for  thee  in  this 
same,  corner;  thou  wilt  come  back  to  me  safe  and 
sound.  No  metal  can  do  anything  against  the  fat 
of  a  snake." 

Audifax  had  given  her  his  hand,  and  had  gone 
out  with  his  bagpipe  so  joyously  into  battle,  —  and 
now !  .  .  . 

The  battle  was  still  raging  on  in  the  valley  plain. 
The  Suabian  ranks  were  on  the  point  of  giving  way, 
already  weary  from  the  unaccustomed  fighting. 
Anxiously  Simon  Bardo  looked  on  and  shook  his 
head. 

"  The  finest  strategy,"  he  grumbled,  "  is  lost  on 
these  Centaurs,  who  dash  back  and  forth,  and  shoot 
from  a  distance,  as  if  my  threefold  array  were  there 
for  nothing.  It  would  really  be  well  if  one  were 
to  add  to  Emperor  Leo's  book  on  tactics  a  special 
chapter  treating  of  the  attack  of  tlie  Huns." 

He  rode  up  to  the  monks,  and  divided  them  again 
into  two  bodies  ;  he  ordered  the  men  of  St.   Gall  to 


284  EKKEHARD 

advance  on  the  right  of  the  arri6re-ban  and  those  of 
Reichenau  on  the  left ;  then  to  wheel  about  so  that 
the  enemy,  having  the  wood  at  his  back,  might  be 
shut  in  by  a  wide  semicircle.  "  If  we  do  not  sur- 
round them,  they  will  not  make  a  stand,"  he  cried, 
and  flourished  his  broad  sword.  "  Up  and  at  them, 
then ! " 

A  wild  fire  flashed  in  all  eyes.  In  marching  order 
stood  the  ranks.  Now  they  all  dropt  down  on  their 
knees;  each  took  up  a  clod  of  earth,  and  threw  it 
over  his  head,  that  he  might  be  consecrated  and 
blessed  by  his  native  earth ;  i*^  then  they  rushed  on 
to  battle. 

Those  of  St.  Gall  struck  up  the  pious  war-song  of 
'"'•  7nedia  vita.'''' 

Notker  the  stutterer  once  passed  through  the  ra- 
vines of  the  jVIartistobel,  in  his  native  land ;  they 
were  building  a  bridge  across.  The  workmen  were 
hanging  over  the  giddy  height.  Then  it  came  into 
his  mind  like  a  picture,  how,  at  every  moment  in  our 
life,  the  abyss  of  Death  is  yawning,  and  so  he  com- 
posed the  song. 

Now  it  served  as  "a  sort  of  magic  song,  a  protec- 
tion to  their  own  lives,  and  death  to  their  enemies. 

Solemn  sounded  its  strains  from  the  lips  of  the 
men  as  they  went  into  battle :  — 

hi  the  midst  of  life  ive  are  in  death  :  of  whom  may  we  seek  for 
succor^  but  of  thee,  O  Lord,  who  for  our  sins  art  justly  dis^ 
pleased. 

In  thee  did  our  fathers  fid  their  trust,  they  put  their  trust  in 
thee,  and  thou  didst  set  them  free. 

O  Lord  God  most  holy  ! 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE  HUNS     285 

And  from  the  other  wing  the  monks  of  the  Reiche- 
nau  were  singing :  — 

On   thee   our  fathers   called^  they  called  and   were   not  con- 

foicnded. 
O  Lord  most  mighty .' 

And  from  both  sides  was  then  heard  together : 

Despise  us  not  in  the  days  of  decrepitude  ;  -when  our  strength 

faileth,  spare  tts. 
Holy  and  most  merciful  Saviour,  deliver  us  not  into  the  bitter 

pangs  of  eternal  death  M^ 

Thus  they  stood  in  close  combat.  With  amaze- 
ment the  Huns  had  beheld  the  dark  columns  ap- 
proaching. Howls,  and  the  hissing,  devilish  cry  of 
"  hui !  hui !  "  ^^"^  was  their  response  to  the  "  jnedza 
vitay  Ellak  likewise  now  divided  his  horsemen  for 
the  attack,  and  the  fighting  raged  fiercer  than  ever. 

The  Huns,  spurring  their  horses,  broke  through  the 
feeble  force  of  the  monks  of  St.  Gall ;  a  dire  single 
combat  then  began.  Strength  wrestled  with  swift- 
ness, German  awkwardness  with  Hunnic  cunning. 

The  soil  of  the  Hegau  then  drank  the  blood  of 
many  a  pious  man.  Tutilo  the  strong  was  slain. 
He  had  tripped  up  a  Hun's  horse  and  pulled  the 
rider  down  by  the  feet,  and,  swinging  the  wry-faced 
wretch  through  the  air,  split  his  skull  against  a 
stone;  but  an  arrow  pierced  the  hoary  warrior's 
temple.  A  sound  like  the  victorious  hymns  of  the 
heavenly  host  rang  through  his  wounded  brain,  then 
he  fell  down  on  his  slain  foe. 

Sindolt  the  wicked  atoned  by  the  death-wound  in 
his  breast  for  many  a  bad  trick  which  he  had  played 


286  EKKEHARD 

on  his  brothers  in  former  times,  and  nothing  did  it 
avail  Dubslan  the  Scot  that  he  had  made  a  vow  to  St. 
Minwaloius  to  go  bare-foot  to  Rome,  if  he  would  pro- 
tect him  in  this  battle,  —  for  he  also  was  carried  out 
of  the  tumult  with  an  arrow  shot  through  his  body. 

When  the  blows  were  raining  down  on  the  helmets 
like  hail-stones  on  loose  slate-roofs,  old  Moengal 
drew  his  hood  over  his  head,  so  that  he  could  look 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left ;  he  had  thrown 
away  his  spear.  "  Out  with  thee  now,  my  old  Cam- 
butta,"  he  cried  spitefully,  and  unbuckled  his  shille- 
lah,  which  had  accompanied  him  fastened  to  his 
back.  He  now  stood  in  the  whirl  Hke  a  thrasher 
on  the  barn  floor. 

For  some  time  a  horseman  had  been  capering 
around  him.  "  Kyrie  eleison,''  sang  out  the  old  man, 
and  smashed  the  horse's  skull  at  one  blow.  On 
both  feet  the  rider  leaped  to  the  ground:  a  light 
stroke  from  the  crooked  sabre  grazed  Moengal's 
arm. 

"  Hoiho  !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  In  spring  'tis  a  good 
thing  to  be  bled ;  but  take  care,  little  surgeon ! "  and 
he  aimed  a  blow  as  if  he  would  strike  his  opponent 
ten  fathoms  deep  into  the  ground. 

The  Hun  evaded  the  blow,  but  the  helmet  fell  off, 
and  the  club-wielder  saw  a  rosy  face,  framed  in  by 
long  wavy  tresses  interwoven  with  a  red  ribbon. 

Before  Moengal  could  aim  another  blow,  his  an- 
tagonist jumped  up  at  him  like  a  tiger-cat.  The 
young  fresh  face  approached  his  as  if  to  afford  him, 
in  his  old  days,  the  opportunity  of  getting  a  kiss ;  but 
the  next  moment  he  received  a  sharp  bite  on  his 


THE   BATTLE    WITH   THE  HUNS      287 

cheek.  He  clasped  his  assailant:  —  it  was  like  a 
woman's  form ! 

"  Avaunt  from  me,  demon  !  "  cried  he.  "  Has  hell 
spewed  out  her  she-devils  also  ?  " 

Then  came  another  bite  on  the  left  cheek  to  re- 
store symmetry.  He  started  back;  she  laughed  at 
him ;  a  riderless  horse  came  dashing  by ;  before  old 
Moengal  had  raised  his  bludgeon  again,  Erica  was 
in  the  saddle,  and  rode  away  like  a  dream  of  the 
night  that  vanishes  at  cockcrow.  .  .  . 

In  the  main  body  of  the  arriere-ban  fought  Herr 
Spazzo  the  chamberlain,  heading  a  troop.  The  slow 
advance  had  pleased  him  ;  but  when  the  fight  seemed 
to  come  to  no  conclusion,  and  men  were  flying  at 
one  another  like  the  hounds  and  the  deer  in  a  chase, 
then  it  became  rather  too  much  for  him.  An 
idyllic  mood  came  over  him  in  the  midst  of  battle 
and  death,  and  only  when  a  passing  rider  pulled  off 
his  helmet,  as  an  acceptable  booty,  was  he  roused 
from  his  meditations  ;  and  when  the  same,  renewing 
the  experiment,  tried  to  drag  off  his  mantle  also,  he 
cried  out  angrily,  "  Is  it  not  yet  enough,  thou  marks- 
man of  the  Devil  ? "  at  the  same  time  he  dealt  at  him 
a  thrust  with  his  long  sword,  which  pinned  the  Hun's 
thigh  to  his  horse. 

Herr  Spazzo  then  thought  of  giving  him  the  death- 
blow ;  but  on  looking  into  his  face,  he  found  it  so 
very  ugly  that  he  resolved  to  bring  him  home  to  his 
mistress,  as  a  living  memento  of  the  day.  So  he 
made  the  wounded  man  prisoner.  His  name  was 
Cappan,  and  putting  his  head  under  Herr  Spazzo's 


288  EKKEHARD 

arm,  in  token  of  submission,  he  grinned  with  his 
white  teeth,  because  his  life  had  been  spared. 

Hornebog  had  led  his  troops  against  the  brothers 
of  the  Reichenau.  Here  Death  reaped  a  rich  har- 
vest. The  cloister-walls  glistened  in  the  distance 
across  the  lake,  like  an  appeal  to  the  combatants  to 
exert  their  utmost  strength  ;  and  many  a  Hun  who 
came  within  reach  of  their  swords  found  that  he 
was  treading  on  Suabian  ground,  where  the  most 
telling  blows  grow  wild  like  strawberries  in  the 
wood.  But  the  ranks  of  the  brothers  also  were  con- 
siderably thinned.  Ouirinius  the  scrivener  was  rest- 
ing forever  from  the  writer's-cramp,  which  had 
caused  the  spear  in  his  right  hand  to  tremble. 
There  fell  Wiprecht  the  astronomer,  and  Kerimold 
the  master  of  trout-fishing,  and  Witigowo  the  archi- 
tect ;  —  who  knows  them  all  ?  the  nameless  heroes, 
who  died  a  joyful  death  ! 

To  one  only  did  a  Hunnic  arrow  bring  relief  ;  that 
was  brother  Pilgeram.  He  was  born  at  Cologne,  on 
the  Rhine,  and  had  carried  his  thirst  of  knowledge, 
as  well  as  a  mighty  goitre,  to  St.  Pirmin's  isle,  where 
he  was  one  of  the  most  learned  and  most  pious  of 
the  monks  ;  but  his  goitre  increased,  and  he  became 
hypochondriac  over  the  ethics  of  Aristotle,  so  that 
Heribald  had  often  said  to  him:  "Pilgeram,  I  pity 
thee." 

Now  an  arrow  pierced  the  excrescence  on  his 
throat. 

"  Farewell,  friend  of  my  youth  !  "  he  cried,  and 
sank  down  ;  but  the  wound  was  not  dangerous,  and 
when   his    consciousness    returned,   his    throat    felt 


THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE   HUNS      289 

light  and  his  head  felt  light,  and  as  long  as  he  lived 
he  never  opened  his  Aristotle  again. 

Round  the  standard  of  St.  Gall  a  select  body  of 
men  had  rallied.  The  black  streamers  still  floated 
in  the  air  from  the  image  on  the  crucifix  ;  but  the 
contest  was  doubtful.  With  word  and  action  Ekke- 
hard  encouraged  his  companions  to  hold  their  own  ; 
but  it  was  Ellak  himself  who  fought  against  them. 

The  bodies  of  slain  men  and  horses  cumbered 
the  ground  in  wild  disorder.  He  who  survived  had 
done  his  duty ;  and  when  all  are  brave,  no  single 
heroic  deed  can  claim  its  special  share  of  glory. 

Herr  Burkhard's  sword  had  received  a  new  bap- 
tism of  blood  in  Ekkehard's  hands,  but  in  vain  had 
he  fiercely  attacked  Ellak  the  chieftain;  after  they 
had  exchanged  a  few  blows  and  thrusts,  they  were 
separated  again  by  the  billows  of  battle. 

Already  the  cross,  towering  on  high,  was  beginning 
to  waver  under  the  rain  of  unceasing  arrows,  when  a 
loud  cry  of  surprise  rang  through  the  ranks.  From 
the  hill  on  which  stood  the  tower  of  Hohenfridingen 
two  unknown  horsemen  in  strange-looking  armor 
came  galloping  down.  Heavy  and  of  mighty  bulk 
sat  one  of  them  on  his  steed;  of  antiquated  shape 
were  shield  and  harness,  but  the  faded  golden  orna- 
ments indicated  the  high  birth  of  the  warrior.  A 
golden  band  encircled  his  helmet,  from  which  waved 
a  tuft  of  red  feathers.  With  mantle  fluttering  in  the 
wind  and  lance  levelled,  he  looked  like  a  picture  of 
the  olden  times ;  like  King  Saul  in  Folkard's  psalm- 
book,  when  he  rode  out  to  meet  David.^^^  Close 
VOL.  I.  — 19 


290  EKKEHARD 

by  his  side   rode  his  companion,  a   faithful  vassal, 
ready  to  succor  and  protect  him. 

"  'T  is  the  archangel  Michael ! "  rang  the  cry 
through  the  Christian  ranks,  and  with  this  their 
strength  rallied. 

The  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  strange  knight's 
arms,  like  an  omen  of  victory,  —  and  now  the  \.^o 
were  in  the  midst  of  the  battle.  He  in  the  gilt 
armor  seemed  to  be  looking  about  for  a  worthy  an- 
tagonist ;  one  was  not  lacking,  for,  as  soon  as  the 
Hunnic  chieftain's  keen  eyes  spied  him  out,  his 
horse's  head  was  turned  toward  him.  The  stranger 
knight's  spear  flew  by  him ;  Ellak  was  already 
raising  his  sword  to  deal  the  death-blow,  when  the 
vassal  threw  himself  between  the  two.  His  broad 
sword  merely  struck  the  enemy's  horse ;  so  he  bent 
his  head  forwards,  and  caught  the  blow  meant  for  his 
master;  cut  through  the  neck,  the  faithful  shield- 
bearer  found  his  death. 

With  a  noisy  clattering  Ellak's  horse  fell  to  the 
ground ;  but  before  the  din  had  quite  died  out  the 
Hun  was  on  his  feet  again.  The  unknown  knight 
raised  his  mace  to  br^ak  his  enemy's  head  ;  but  Ellak, 
with  his  left  foot  braced  against  the  body  of  his 
dead  courser,  pressed  back  the  raised  arm  with  his 
sinewy  hand,  and  strove  at  the  same  time  to  pull 
him  from  his  steed.  Then,  face  to  face,  the  two 
mighty  ones  engaged  in  such  a  wrestling  that  those 
around  them  ceased  fighting  to  look  on. 

Now,  by  a  crafty  movement,  Ellak  seized  his  short 
sword,  which,  like  all  Huns,  he  wore  at  his  right  side  ; 
but  just  as  he  was  lifting  his  arm  to  use  it,  his  antago- 


THE  BATTLE    WITH  THE  HUNS     29 1 

nist's  mace  came  down  slowly  but  heavily  on  his  head. 
Yet  his  hand  still  dealt  the  thrust !  Then  he  raised 
it  to  his  forehead ;  the  blood  streamed  over  it ; 
the  Hunnic  chieftain  fell  back  over  his  war-horse, 
and  reluctantly  breathed  out  his  life. 

"  Here  !  sword  of  the  Lord  and  St.  Michael !  " 
now  rose  triumphantly  the  cry  of  monk  and  arriere- 
ban  !  They  rushed  on  to  one  last  desperate  attack. 
The  knight  in  the  gilt  armor  was  still  the  foremost  in 
the  fight.  The  death  of  their  leader  caused  a  panic 
to  the  Huns ;  they  turned,  and  sped  away  in  mad 
flight. 

The  Forest  woman  had  already  perceived  the 
issue  .of  the  battle.  Her  horses  were  ready  har- 
nessed ;  she  cast  one  last  angry  glance  at  the 
approaching  monks  and  her  rocky  home,  then  she 
drove  the  horses  at  a  swift  pace  toward  the  Rhine, 
followed  by  the  rest  of  the  train. 

"  To  the  Rhine  !  "  was  the  watch-word  of  the  flying 
Huns. 

Last  of  all,  and  unwillingly,  Hornebog  turned  his 
back  on  the  battlefield  and  the  Hohentwiel. 

"  Farewell,  till  next  year!  "  cried  he,  tauntingly. 

The  victory  was  gained;  but  he  whom  they  be- 
lieved to  be  the  archangel  Michael,  sent  from 
Heaven  to  the  field  of  Hegau,  bowed  his  heavy  head 
down  to  his  horse's  neck.  Reins  and  mace  fell 
from  his  hands;  whether  it  was  the  Hunnic  chief- 
tain's last  thrust,  or  suffocation  in  the  heat  of  the 
battle,  he  was  lifted  down  from  his  horse  a  dead 
man.     On  opening  his  visor,  a  happy  smile  was  still 


292  EKKEHARD 

visible  on  his  wrinkled  old  face.  .  .  .  From  that  hour 
the  headache  of  the  old  man  of  the  Heidenhohlen 
had  ceased  forever.  Dying  as  an  honorable  cham- 
pion should,  he  had  atoned  for  the  sins  of  bygone 
days ;  this  gave  him  joy  in  the  hour  of  death. 

A  black  dog  ran  about  searchmg  on  the  battle- 
field till  he  found  the  old  man's  body.  Dismally 
howling,  he  licked  his  forehead ;  and  Ekkehard 
stood  near,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  repeated  a 
prayer  for  the  welfare  of  his  soul.  .   . 

With  helmets  adorned  with  green  fir-twigs  the  con- 
querors returned  to  the  Hohentwiel.  Twelve  of  the 
brothers  they  left  in  the  valley  to  watch  the  dead  on 
the  battlefield. 

Of  the  Huns,  one  hundred  and  eighty-four  had 
fallen  in  battle  ;  of  the  Suabian  arriere-ban,  ninety- 
six;  those  of  the  Reichenau  had  lost  eighteen,  and 
those  of  St.  Gall  twenty,  besides  the  old  man  and 
Rauching  his  bondsman. 

With  a  handkerchief  tied  round  his  face,  Moengal 
stalked  over  the  field,  leaning  on  his  shillelah  instead 
of  a  staff.     One  by  one  he  examined  the  dead. 

"  Hast  thou  not  seen  amongst  them  a  Huri.  who  in 
reality  is  a  Hunnic  woman  ?  "  he  asked  of  one  of  the 
watch-keeping  brothers. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  I  may  as  well  go  home,"  said  Moengal. 


NOTES. 


1.  Page  3.  Purchardiis  atcfem,  dux  Suevorum,  Sueviant 
quasi  ty^-annice  regejts.  Ekkehardi  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli," 
c.  3,  in  Pertz's  "  Monumenta  Germaniae  Historica,"  II. 
104.  hie  cwn  esset  bellator  intolerabilis.  Witukind,  Lib.  I. 
c.  27. 

2.  Page  3.  .  .  .  curniam  esset decrepitus.  Ekkeh. "Ca- 
sus S.  Galli,"  c.  10. 

3.  Page  4.  Hadazviga,  Henrici  ducts /ilia,  Suevorttm, 
post  Pui'chardum  virum  dux  vidua,  cum  Duellio  habitaret, 
feviina  admodtim  qjiidem  pidchra,  nimice  severitatis  cum 

esset    suis,   longe   lateque    terris    erat  terribilis.      Ekkeh. 
"Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10,  in  Pertz,  II.  122. 

4.  Page  5.  Camisias  clizana.  pallium  canunivel saphi- 
rimcm.  The  costume  of  the  nobility  was  subject  to 
great  changes,  according  to  the  prevailing  fashion.  At 
the  time  of  Karl  the  Great  (Charlemagne)  men  wore 
shoes  on  their  feet,  gaiter-like  bandages  fastened  with 
strings  and  coming  high  up  on  the  legs,  a  shirt-like  linen 
undergarment,  and  a  woollen  coat  or  a  long  mantle 
thrown  over  the  shoulders  and  coming  to  the  heels, 
leaving  at  the  sides  apertures  for  free  use  of  the  arms. 
The  long  mantle  soon  gave  place  to  a  shorter  cloak, 
which  also  was  speedily  discarded  as  inconvenient.  Com- 
pare the  Monachus  San  Gallensis :  "  Gesta  Karoli  Magni," 


294  ^'^^^  ^^-^ 

Lib.  I.  c.  34,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  11. 747.  The  miniature- 
pictures  in  the  St.  Gall  MSS.  throw  much  light  on  the 
contemporary  costumes. 

5.  Page  6.  The  ^'/^ro-^A/,  according  to  the  mediaeval 
system  of  punishments,  was  the  money  price  which  was 
exacted  for  almost  every  crime  and  misdemeanor.  In 
principle  it  was  a  personal  satisfaction  to  the  injured 
party,  a  penance  ( IVeite,  wager,  fredun),  a  fine  pay- 
able to  the  community  for  breach  of  the  peace,  and 
later  claimed  by  the  lord  of  the  land.  The  popular 
laws  in  ancient  times  carefully  prescribe  the  Wehrgeld 
which  the  proprietor  of  all  kinds  of  animals  might  exact 
in  case  a  violent  death  or  injury  befell  them.  If,  how- 
ever, the  harm  resulted  through  accident,  it  was  not 
regarded  as  a  breach  of  the  peace,  and  it  would  have 
been  very  difficult  for  Herr  Spazzo  to  obtain  judgment 
against  the  Baron  of  Fridingen  for  the  damage  done  by 
his  wolf-hound. 

6,  Page  6.  Proposals  of  marriage  were  at  that  time 
now  and  again  exchanged  between  the  Byzantine  court 
and  the  German  princes.  German  bishops  were  fre- 
quently sent  on  such  missions  to  Constantinople;  e.g., 
Bishop  Bernward  of  Wiirzburg  for  the  Emperor  Otto 
III.,  Werner  of  Strassburg  for  the  son  of  the  Emperor 
Konrad  II.  In  a  note'of  the  S.  Gall  "  Liber  Benedictio- 
num  "  there  is  a  severe  animadversion  on  the  custom  of 
the  nobles  of  neglecting  German  young  women  and  pro- 
curing their  wives  from  Italy  and  Greece.  The  prefer- 
ence manifested  by  German  gentlemen  for  Byzantine 
ladies  may  be  understood  from  the  descriptions  of  those 
who  were  eye-witnesses  of  the  new  fashions  and  the 
delightful  social  life  introduced  at  the  imperial  German 
court  by  Theophano,  the  Greek  wife  of  Otto  II.  Even 
the  stern  scholastic  Gerbert,  afterwards  Pope  Sylvester 
II.,  found  himself  compelled  to  acknowledge   the  fas- 


NOTES  295 

cination  of  Byzantine  femininity.  "  As  soon,"  says  he, 
"  as  I  came  under  the  influence  of  these  intelligent  faces, 
these  Socratic  discussions,  I  forgot  all  annoyances  and 
no  longer  grieved  at  the  thought  of  my  absence  from 
home." 

7.  Page  7.  Native  birds,  artistically  arranged,  took 
the  same  place  in  the  parlors  of  those  days  as  parrots  do 
now.  In  Fragment  VIII.  of  the  Latin  poem  "  Ruodlieb," 
there  is  a  very  idyllic  account  of  such  wonderfully  tame 
starlings,  which  knew  how  to  ask  for  their  daily  bread, 
and  were  taught  to  repeat  the  Lord's  prayer  in  Latin  : 

nostratim  fart  "  Pater  at  noster  "  recitare 
usque  "qui  as  in  coelis,"  lis^  lis^  lis,  triplicatis. 

See  Grimm  and  Schmeller :  "  Latein.  Gedichte  des  X. 
u.  XL  Jahrhunderts,"  pp.  174  and  212. 

8.  Page  12.  .  .  .  hcec  quondam  parvula,  Consta?ztino 
Grceco  regi  cum  esset  desponsata,  par  euniuhos  eius  ad  hoc 
misses  Uteris  grcccis  adpri?ne  est  erudita,  sed  cum  imaginem 
virginis  pictor  eunuchus  do?nino  mittendam  uti  simillime 
depingeret,  solicite  eam  inspiceret  ipsa  nuptias  exosa  os 
divaricabat  et  oculos,  sicque  Grceco  pervivaciter  reptidiato. 
Uteris  post  latiftis  studentem  Purchart  illam  dux  multi- 
pliciter  dotatam  duxit,  etc.  Ekkeh.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10, 
in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  123. 

9.  Page  13.  ...  seu  serpentes  capita  to;,  ascula  qucE  sibi 
dant.     "Ruodlieb,"  Fragm.  III.  335. 

10.  Page  15.  Rorschach  was  frequently  chosen  as 
the  place  of  passage  for  those  travelling  to  Italy.  The 
monastery  of  St.  Gall  enjoyed,  "  by  imperial  rescript," 
the  jurisdiction  over  it.  See  "  the  Outlet  at  Rorschach," 
in  Grimm,  "  Weistiimer,"  I,  233.  Patents  from  the  Saxon 
emperors  confirmed  the  abbots  of  S.  Gall  in  rights 
of  market,  coinage,  and  taxes.  See  Ildefons  von  Arx, 
"  Geschichte  des  Kantons  Sankt  Gallen,"  I.  221. 


296  NOTES 

11.  Page  15.  ...  ^/  clin7iativo  ilium  cantu  salutant : 
Heil  Jierro !  Heil  licbo !  et  catera.  Ekkeh.  '*  Casus  S. 
Galli,"  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  87. 

12.  Page  16.   silvarum  avidus.     "  Vita  S.  Galli." 

13.  Page  17.  de  natione  Scotorum,  quibus  consiietudo 
peregrinandi  iatn  pane  in  natiirarn  conversa.  Walafrid 
Strabo  in  his  "  Vita  S.  Galli,"  Lib.  II.  c.  47,  in  Pertz, 
"  Monum."  II.  30. 

14.  Page  17.  "■  Ascopam  i.  e.  flasconem  similis  utri  de 
coriis  facta,  siciit  solent  Scottones  habere."  Glossary  of  a 
S.  Gall  MS.  of  the  IXth  Cent,  in  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale 
des  Mittelalters " :  Sankt  Gallens  altteutsche  Sprach- 
schatze,  Bd.  I.  237. 

15.  Page  17.  And  now,  to  be  sure,  considering  the 
small  advantage  which  posterity  owes  the  endeavors  of 
well-meaning  ancestors,  we  may  agree  with  the  praise 
which  Herder  in  his  day  gives  in  his  unfortunately 
rather  wooden  poem,  "  Die  Fremdlinge  "  (The  Strangers) 
to  those  pious  wanderers  :  — 

"  Die  Scotice  mit  altem  Bardenfleiss 
Die  Biicher  schriebett  tind  bewa/iretenJ'* 
The  Scots  with  all  the  zeal  of  bards 
Wrote  books  and  kept  them  well. 

16.  Page  iS.  "Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  48.  accepit 
solitus  fratres  post prandia  sommis.  "  Annales  S.  Gallenses 
Majores,"  in  Pertz,  '*  Monum."  I.  81. 

17.  Page  19.  ...  in  conclavi  vase  qiwdam  argenteo 
mire  figurato  ad  aqtiam  interendam  utcbatur.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  i,  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  II.  8S. 

18.  Page  20.  recalvaster  est,  qui  in  anterior e  parte 
capitis  duo  calvitia  habet  rnedietate  inter  ilia  habente  pilos, 
ut  est  Craloh  abbas  et  IVikram.  Gloss  of  a  S.  Gall  MS. 
on  the  Book  of  Leviticus,  in  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc., 
I.  240. 


NOTES 


297 


19.  Page  22.    ...  viore  hiritndinis. 

20.  Page  23.  erat  scjiaius  reipubliccB  7iostrcB  tunc  qiii- 
detn  Sanctis siniics.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli."  c.  i,  in 
Pertz,  "Monum."  II.  80. 

21.  Page  24.  eni7nvero  hi  tres,  qicanivis  votis  essent 
unicordes,  natiira  ta?nen,  tit  Jit,  erant  dissimiles.  See  the 
touching  description  of  the  three  closely  allied  mon- 
astery friends  in  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3,  Pertz, 
"  Monum."  II.  94  et  seq.,  in  which  the  wicked  Sindolt, 
their  opponent,  is  closely  described.  Ratpert  is  also  the 
author  of  the  Song  of  Praise  of  S.  Gallus  in  German, 
the  importance  of  which  is  proved  by  the  Latin  transla- 
tion which  we  possess.  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  I. 
337.  The  diptychon  carved  by  Tutilo  as  a  cover  for  a 
MS.  of  the  Gospels  is  still  preserved  in  the  monastery 
library  at  S.  Gall.  Ivory  was  particularly  chosen  for 
ecclesiastical  ornamentation,  for  the  reason  that  the 
elephant,  to  use  an  expression  of  Notker  Labeo's  in  his 
translation  of  the  Psalms,  was  regarded  as  a  "chaste 
beast  "  —  {chiHsche  fiio,  —  keiisches  Vieh).  Hattemer, 
"Denkmale,"  etc.,  II.  159. 

22.  Page  24.  "The  whole  range  of  knowledge  at 
the  close  of  the  IXth  Century  is  brought  vividly  before 
us  by  the  '  Glossae  Salomonis,'  or  encyclopaedic  dic- 
tionary, which  originated  at  S.  Gall,  in  the  School  of 
Iso,  but  which  is  generally  named  after  Archbishop 
vSalomo  III.  of  Constance.  It  gives,  indeed,  many 
things,  word  for  word,  from  the  treasures  of  the  ancient 
lexicographers,  especially  Isidorus,  but  nevertheless  con- 
tains also  a  quantity  of  original  material  which  throws 
light  on  contemporary  notions  and  facts.  At  the  same 
time  it  illustrates  how  exceedingly  inadequate  was  the 
state  of  learning,  and  how  narrow  were  the  conceptions 
of  life  at  that  time."  Stalin,  "  Wirtemberg.  Geschichte," 
Bd.  I.  p.  405.     The  gloss  by  Sindolt,  mentioned  on  p.  24, 


298  NOTES 

reads  :  Rabidam  —  thincman,  qui  semper  Z'ult  ad  uiiam 
quamque  rem  disputare.  It  was  not  unusual  for  monks 
who  by  the  rules  of  their  Order  were  so  constantly 
obliged  to  keep  silence,  to  ventilate  their  spleen  by 
inserting  memoranda  in  MSS.  or  books.  Thus  on  the 
last  page  of  Codex  176  there  is  a  picture  of  a  great  jug, 
and  under  it  a  number  of  insulting  hexameters  against 
the  monastery  priest  Grimoald,  for  example  :  — 

Grimoald,  fdllt  es  dir  bei^  aus  diesem  Kruge  zii  schbpfen, 
Moge  sein  Inhalt  sofort  sich  in  S'dure  des  Essigs  vcrwandeln, 
Und  ein  unendlidier  Husten  samt  brennendem  Durst  dir  be- 
schert  sein  ! 

Grimoald !   if  thou  shotdd  chance  to  take  a  drink  from  this 

vessel, 
Instantly  may  its  contents  to  the  soiirjiess  of  vinegar  alter^ 
And  diabolical  thirst  ajid  endless  coughing  give  with  it. 

Cf.  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  I.  412.  The  metrical  dia- 
tribes of  the  Scot  Dubduin  are  to  be  found  in  Ildefons 
V.  Arx :  "  Berichtigungen  und  Zusatze  zur  Geschichte 
des  Kantons  Sankt  Gallen,"  p.  20.     not.  d. 

23.  Page  24.  Concerning  Sintram,  the  indefatigable 
calligraphist,  cf.  Ekkehard  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  i,  in 
Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  89. 

24.  Page  25.  A  very  similar  remedy,  in  application 
of  a  freshly  skinned  wolf's  hide,  and  rubbing  with  the 
brain  of  an  Indian  fish,  is  suggested  by  the  Fox  to  the 
sick  king  Lion,  in  the  curious  Latin  poem  "  Ecbasis 
Captivi,"  V.  495  et  seq.,  as  a  cure  for  fever.  See  Grimm 
und  Schmeller,  "  Latein.  Gedichte  des  X.  Jahrh."  p.  259. 

25.  Page  25.  ...  viulieres  tile  et  mala  arbor icm  nattt- 
rali  sibi  quodafn  odio  adeo  exccratus  est,  ut,  ubi  in  itincre 
utrumvis  inveniret,  mansionem  facere  nollet.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  4,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  104. 

26.  Page  35.  See  I.  v.  Arx,  "Berichtigungen  und 
Zusatze,"  etc.,  p.  26. 


NOTES  299 

27.  Page  26.  See  "  Vita  Wiboradae,  auctore  Hart- 
manno,"  in  the  "  Acta  Sanctorum,"  Mai,  torn.  I.  p.  2S8. 

28.  Page  26.  et  qiioniam  hie  locnm  apttim  piUo  de  Ekke- 
hardo  .  .  .  rem  arduain  aggredior,  quojiiam,  cutn  tales  viri 
aiit  nulli  aiit  rarissimi  sint,  discredi  niihi  vereor.     erat  hie 

faeie  adeo  decorus,  tct  inspieientes,  sicitt  Josephiis  de  Moyse 
scribit,  gratia  sui  detineret.  statJira  procerus,  forti  assi7nilis, 
eg  teal  iter  grossiis,  oculis  fulgiirostis  ;  tit  qui  dam  ad  Augtis- 
tiim  ait:  quia  ftdmen  ocidoruni  tuorum  ferre  non  possum, 
sapientia  et  eloquentia,  maxiine  autem  consiliis,  iiemini  id 
temporis  postponendus.  in  estate  floi'ida  glorice,  ut  talis 
facturcB  vir,  qiiam  humilitati  proximior,  sed postea  non  ita  ; 
quia  disciplina,  cum  qua  nihil  unquam  participii  superbia 
habuit,  in  ipso  erat  spectaculo  digna.  doctor  prosper  et  asper. 
7iam  citm  apud  S.  Galium  ambas  scolas  suas  teneret,  nemo 
prcBter  exiles  pusiones  quicquam  alteri  nisi  latine  ausus  est 
proloqui,  etc.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10,  in 
Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  122. 

29.  Page  27.  ...  scEpe  juniori  Dominus  revelat,  quod 
mclizis  est !    "  Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  3. 

30.  Page  28.  ...  melius  claudicare  reges  quam  regiia. 

31.  Page  30.  nemiiii  nunquam,  ait,  Benedicti  cncidla 
dccentius  insederat !     Ekkeh.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10. 

32.  Page  31.  S.  Gall  was  specially  reputed  for  its 
close  observance  of  monastic  discipline  and  the  virtuous 
behavior  of  its  inmates.  It  was  therefore  regarded  as  a 
great  honor  to  be  received  into  the  brotherhood,  — fratres 
conscripti,  —  all  the  more  because  one  thus  gained  the 
credit  for  pious  observances  without  actually  having  to 
practice  them  !  Many  underwent  considerable  expense  to 
obtain  it.  The  register  of  the  fratres  conscripti  is  still 
extant.  In  it  are  the  names  of  emperors,  kings  of  Ger- 
many, England,  and  France,  princesses,  bishops,  and 
counts.  Ildef.  v.  Arx,  "  Geschichte  des  Kantons  Sankt 
Gallen,"  I.  iSi. 


300  NOTES 

33.  Page  32.  vidi  egojnet  coviites  aliosqjie  potctites,  loci 
qnoqiie  viilitcs,festi5  did  bus  cnccetn  nobis  cutii  seqtiendi,  j'ttve- 
lies  et  senes  qtiosdam  ad  cingtiluin  barbatos  monachicis  roccis 
nobiscuni,  quaqiia  ivimtis,  itigredi.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus 
S.  Galli,"  c.  16. 

34.  Page  33-  .  •  .  wil  er  zii  iiacht  aber  da  biiliben,  so 
soil  ieklich  schicpposse,  die  in  den  ho/  hoeret,  geben  ein  hun, 
etc.,  Grimm,  "  Weistumer,"  I.  i. 

35.  Page  34.  .  .  .  caneni  sencem,  qtievi  "  leithihnnt " 
vacant  .  .  .  seiicem,  qui  in  ligaynine  vestigium  tenet,  qiceni 
^^ spurehunt^^  dicunt.  .  .  .  cane/n,  qjiein  ^^  bibarhunt"  vocajit, 
qui  sub  terra  venatur.  "Lex  Baiuvarior,"  tit.  19,  "  De 
Canibus."  See  also  "  Lex  Alamannor,"  tit.  82,  "  De 
Canibus." 

36.  Page  35.     Der  heber  gat  in'' litun 

tregit  sper  in^ sUun 

sin  bald  el  I  in 

ne  lazet  in  tiellin. 

Into  sifitftioze 
fiiodernidze, 

imo  sint  btirste 

Sbenho  forste. 

linde  zene  sine 

z-welifelnige. 
This  venerable  old  Volkslied,  which  apparently  had  its 
origin  either  from  Romeias's  Hunting  Experiences  ("Jagd- 
geschichte"),  or  was  taken  by  him  as  the  foundation  of 
his  Hunting  stories,  was  preserved  to  posterity  through 
the  S.  Gall  Treatise  on  Rhetoric  (perhaps  Xotker's),  in 
which  it  is  adduced  as  a  characteristic  example  of  hyper- 
bolic style  {nam  plus  dicitiir  sed  minus  intelligitur).  Cf. 
Hattemer,  "Denkmale,"  etc.,  Bd.  III.  p.  577. 

37.  Page  36.  See  "  Vita  S.  Galli,"  in  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
n.9. 

38.  Page  36.    "  Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  i. 


NOTES  301 

39.  Page  36.  In  unenlightened  ages  man  attempts  to 
serve  his  god  also  in  unenlightened  ways.  A  hermit  life 
at  that  time  appealed  to  world-weary  spirits,  and  ex- 
amples of  human  beings  who  endured  for  upwards  of 
twenty,  and  even  thirty,  years  that  kind  of  a  voluntary, 
self-enjoined  solitude,  go  to  prove  that  physical  life  can 
be  sustained  for  a  long  period  by  a  strong  will  inspired 
by  the  belief  that  one  is  doing  a  serviceable  deed.  In 
the  MS.  of  the  S.  Gall  *'  Annales  Maiores  "  there  is 
preserved  a  picture  of  the  priest  Hartker,  a  humble, 
crouching,  chastened  form,  in  the  flowing  robes  of  a 
monk,  with  a  great  tonsure  and  the  superscription :  Hat- 
keriis  rechisiis.     See  Pertz,  "  Monum,"  I.  72. 

The  following  elegy  is  dedicated  to  him  in  the  "  Liber 
Benedictionum  " :  — 

Who  ever  had  a  harder  lot  than  Hartker  the  hermit, 
Who  for  thirty  long  years  in  a  tiarrow  chamber  was  chastened? 
Ever  bent  was  his  head — so  low  was  the  roof  of  his  prison  I 
Here  a  stone  was  his  only  pillow.      Upon  it  he  slumbered, 
On  it  he  died  —  his  wasted  arms  on  the  crticifix  spreadiiig, 
Turning  to  heaven  his  gaze  a7id  commending  his  soul  to  his 
Saviour. 

See  I.  V.  Arx,  "  Geschichte,"  etc.,  I.  232. 

A  famous  hermit  of  earlier  date  was  Saint  Fintan 
(t  827),  who  founded  the  monastery  of  Rheinau  not  far 
from  Schaffhausen.  Whole  nights  at  a  time  he  was 
heard  in  his  cell  praying  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
uttering  his  exorcisms  in  the  strange  sounds  of  his  native 
Keltic  against  the  temptations  of  the  evil  one.  See 
"Vita  S.  Findani  Confessoris,"  in  Mone,  *' Quellensamm- 
lung  der  badischen  Landesgeschichte,"  p.  57.  Concern- 
ing the  ceremonies  at  the  act  of  walling  up  the  recluses, 
Cf.  Martene,  "  De  Antiqu.  Ecclesiae  Ritib."  II.  177. 

40.  Page  37.  Wiborad  is  an  ancient  German  name, 
and  signifies  Rat  der  Weiber  ("  women's  counsel  ").    Two 


302  NOTES 

monks  of  the  monastery  of  S.  Gall,  Hartmann  and  Hepi- 
dan,  wrote  the  biography  of  this  hermitess,  whose  life 
acquired  a  significance  through  its  tragic  conclusion.  It 
is  to  be  found  in  the  "  Acta  Sanctorum"  of  der  Bollandist 
(May,  Vol.   I.   2S4,   etc.).      See  also   Pertz,   "  Monum." 

VI.  452. 

41.  Page  3S.  .  .  .  viagistra  prcedurata. 

42.  Page  41.     Luke  ix.  62. 

43.  Page  42.  .  .  .  castitatis,  inguit,fili  mi,  tibi  cinguhwi 
per  hoc  lineufn  meutn  a  Deo  accipe.  contine)iti(zque  cingii- 
lum  per  hoc  lineum  ineum  a  Deo  accipe,  continenticcqiie 
strophio  ab  hac  deinceps  die  per  Wiboradam  tuajn  te  prcz- 
cinctiini  memento,  cave  auteni,  ne  ullis  abhitic  coUoquiis 
vanis  mulierculis  miscearis.  et  si,  ut  facillifne  Jit,  aliqiio 
carnis  igne  incensusfueris,  loco  in  quo  fiieris,  mutato,  "  Dens 
in  adiiitoriicm  meum  intende.  Domine  ad  adiiivatidiim  vie 
festina  "  mox  cantavcris.  siti  autem  sic  pacem  aliquo  alio 
lapsii  tuo  vetante  non  habueris,  titiofiem  sive  candclam  arden- 
tem  quasi  aliud  aliquid  agas  querens,  digitum  vel  leviter 
ad  lire,  eodemqiie  versii  die  to  securus  eris.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  107. 

44.  Page  43-  •  •  .  et  accepit  angelus  folia  lauri  ct  scripsit 
in  eis  verba  orationis  et  dedit  ea  Pachumio  dicens :  mandiica 
ea,  et  erunt  aniara  in  ore  tuo  sicut  fel,  ventremque  tuiiTU 
implebu)it  obsecrationibus  sapientice,  dabitiir  tibi  forma  ora- 
tionis sance  doctrines,  et  accipiens  Pachumitis  niandiicavit 
et  factum  est  os  eitis  amarum,  porro  venter  eius  didcedine 
impletus  est,  et  magttificavit  Domimim  valde.  "  Vita  Pachu- 
mii  St.  Abbatis,"  in  the  MS.  of  the  Karlsruhe  Court 
Library. 

45.  Page  43.  de  cilicio  etiam,  quo  ipsa  utebatur,  cuius 
hodie  aspcrifatem  pro  rcliquiis  id  habenfes  horrescimus.  .  .  . 
Ekkeh.  IV.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3,  Pertz,  "Monum." 
II.  107. 

46.  Page   44.   proferensque  mala  de  silva  acidissima 


NOTES  303 

inhianti  et  de  majiibus  ejics  rapieiiti  rdiqiierat.  at  ilia  vix 
iimim  dijuidhim  ore  et  ocidis  contractis  vorajis,  catera  pro- 
jiciens :  "  aiistera  es,  inquit,  austera  sunt  et  mala  tua."  et 
aim  esset  literata  :  "  si  omnia,  inquit,  mala  factor  talia  cre- 
asset,  nunqiiam  Eva  malum  gustasset !  ^^  '■'■bene,  ait  illa^ 
Evam  mcmorasti;  enimvero  qtcotnodo  et  tu  sic  deliciarum 
avida  erat,  ideo  in  escula  unius  mali  peccaveratP  Ekke- 
hardi  IV.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
II.  119. 

47.  Page  45.  The  Archangel  Michael  was  to  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  an  object  of  multifarious  superstition.  It  was 
believed  that  to  him  was  assigned  the  duty  of  keeping 
guard  over  the  throne  of  God  the  Father;  and  more- 
over that  on  Mondays,  he  celebrated  mass  before  Him. 
Bishop.  Rather  of  Verona,  in  his  sermon  "  De  Quadriges- 
ima,"  inveighs  strenuously  against  these  coarse  material 
conceptions.  Cf.  Vogel,  "  Ratherius  von  Verona  und 
das  X.  Jahrhundert,"    Bd.  I.  293. 

48.  Page  47.  Hroswitha  of  Gandersheim  treated  of 
the  story  of  Thais  and  the  Anchorite  of  the  Desert  in 
her  naive  Latin  Comedy  "  Paphnucius."  See  Magnin, 
"  Theatre  de  Hrotswitha,"  Paris,  1845,  P-  280  et  seq. 

49.  Page  47.  quid  mihi  et  itianibus  huius  seculi  vani- 
tatibus  ?  audio  in  ccelis  signa  sonitusque  campanarum  ac 
dulcisonam  angeliccE  modulationis  harmoniam :  illnc  ire 
desidero,  his  intercsse  delector.  "  Vita  Wiboradae,  Auctore 
Ilartmanno,"  c.  2. 

50.  Page  51.  Frau  Wendelgard's  yearning  for  her 
captured  spouse  was  most  delightfully  stilled.  Once  each 
year  she  left  her  cell  in  order  to  spend  a  solemn  season 
at  Buchhorn  in  honor  of  Count  Ulrich's  memory.  One 
time,  just  as  she  was  about  to  return,  as  she  was  with  her 
own  hand  distributing  alms  among  the  poor,  there  stood 
among  the  beggars  a  man  ragged  and  disfigured,  to  whom 
she  gave  a  garment.    But  he  did  not  let  go  her  hand,  but 


304  NOTES 

drew  her  to  his  heart  and  kissed  her  before  all  the  people ; 
then  pushed  back  his  hair  and  cried,  "  Recognize  thy 
husband !  " 

When  Frau  Wendelgard,  angry  at  such  impertinence 
on  the  part  of  a  stranger,  tried  to  tear  herself  away,  and 
would  have  turned  him  over  to  her  servants  to  chastise, 
he  pointed  to  an  old  scar,  and  then  she  awoke  as  it  were 
from  a  long  sleep  and  cried :  "  O  my  lord  and  master, 
thou  of  all  men  to  me  the  dearest,  welcome !  welcome, 
thrice  welcome  !  thou  sweetest  of  mortals  !  "  and  threw 
herself  weeping  into  his  arms.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S. 
Galli,"  c.  10,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  120. 

51.  Page  52.  .  .  .  pelle  eius  stjnulatce  sanctitatis  detracta. 
.  .  .  Hepidan,  "  Vita  Wiboradae,"  c.  II. 

52.  Page  52.  .  .  .  ^t^m  Jtondum  in  se  viortificaverit phy- 
largyriam,  qucE  est  omniiwi  radix  malorwn,  etc.  The 
complaints  which  Wiborad  once  had  to  answer  before 
the  Archbishop  of  Constance  are  to  be  read  in  full  in 
Hepidan,  "Vita  Wibor."  II.  11. 

53.  Page  54.  •  .  .grave  pondiis  aiiri  vej-onensis,  gift  of 
Bishop  Petrus.  The  monastery  history  is  rich  in  spe- 
cifications of  treasures  acquired  through  the  solicitude 
of  the  abbots  or  the  favor  of  foreign  patrons.  See 
Ekkehardi  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  i,  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
II.  81. 

54.  Page  54.  .  .  .  viagmuii  calicem  ex  electri  niii'o  opere, 
"  Casuum  S.  Galli,  contin."  II.  c.  7,  in  Pertz,  II.  157. 
There  was  no  doubt  felt  of  the  healing  powers  of  amber. 
quod  vero  medeatur  f/iultis  vitalium  incommodis,  medetititim 
doctiit  disciplina.  S.  Gall  MS.  of  the  Xth  Century  in 
Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  I.  414. 

55.  Page  56.  spichariiim  novtan  solis  fcris  et  hehiis, 
avibtisqiie  domesticis  et  domesticatis  juxta  fratrum  condi  fecit 
et  ipsnm  iam  fieri  juss  it  magnificum.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "Casus 
S.  Galli,"  c.  16. 


NOTES  305 

66.     Page  56. 

simia  iiare  brevi,  7iate  nuda  murcaque  catida, 
voceque  niilvina,  cute  crisa  catta  marina, 
ill  qtiibus  a?nbabns  nil  cernitur  iitilitatis. 

"  Ruodlieb,"  Fragm.  III.  131  et  seq. 

57.  Page  57.  This  fable  of  the  wonderful  carrying- 
trick  of  the  marmot  afforded  great  delight  to  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  was  for  example  copied  by  Sebastian  Munster 
in  his  "  Cosmographey,"  p.  498.  It  had  its  origin  in 
Pliny's  "  Historia  Naturalis." 

58.  Page  58.  .  .  .  Ein  vogil  heizit  Caradriits.  in  dem 
biioche  deuteronomio,  da  ist  gescriben,  daz  man  in  ezzen  nes- 
cnle.  Dannan  zellet phisiologus  tint  ch{it  das  er  aller  wiz  si. 
Ein  mist,  der  von  ime  vert  der  ist  ze  den  tiinchelen  oiigeti 
vile  gitet.  Mit  disme  vogile  mack  man  bechennen,  ob  der 
sieche  tnann  irsterben  oder  gnesen  scoL  Ob  er  sterben  scol, 
so  cheret  sich  der  caradriiis  von  ime.  Ob  er  ave  gnesen 
scol,  so  cheret  sich  der  vogel  ziio  deme  matine  und  tuot  sinen 
S7iabel  uber  des  niannes  munt  und  nimit  des  7natines  nn- 
chraft  an  sich  ;  sa  fert  er  {if  zno  der  sntuien  imte  lint  er  it 
sich  da:  so  ist  der  matin  genesen.  "Phisiologus,"  "A 
Record  of  Beasts  and  Birds,"  contributed  by  Wacker- 
nagel,  "  Altdeutsches  Lesebuch,"  I.  p.  166.  It  is  not 
known  what  fact  in  natural  history  gave  rise  to  this  pro- 
foundly beautiful  legend  of  the  caradrius.  In  S.  Gall 
it  was  understood  by  various  people  in  various  ways ;  for 
while  you  find  among  the  names  of  animals  which  are 
contained  in  the  Dictionary  of  S.  Gallus  the  significant 
gloss,  Cha-ra-drion :  et  ipsam  fion  habemiis,  sed  tamen 
dicitiir  et  ipsai7i  volare  per  77iedias  ttoctes  i7i  stiblitnitate  cccli 
(see  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  I.  9,  10),  later  MSS. 
are  satisfied  to  translate  the  word  caradriits  simply  Ijy 
the  word  lericha,  lark  :  this  seems  to  point  to  a  disap- 
pearance of  the  earlier  well-known  legend.  See  Hatte- 
mer, "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  I.  287,  318  et  al. 

VOL.  I.  —  20 


306  NOTES 

59.  Page  59.  •  •  •  longian  est  diccre,qnibiisJocuTtditatibus 
dies  exegerit  ct  nodes,  maxime  in  processione  infantwyi,  qiii- 
biis  poma  in  medio  ecclesice  pavimenio  a7itester?ii  iubens. 
cnm  nee  utium  parvissimoriivi  niovcre  nee  ad  ea  adtendej-e 
vidissef,  miratus  est  disciplifiam.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S. 
Galli,"  c.  I,  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  84. 

60.  Page  59.  homo  anijual  capas  disciplince:  Hros- 
witha  of  Gandersheim. 

61.  Page  60.  Notker  Labeo  lived  to  fulfil  the  expec- 
tations which  the  abbot  entertained  concerning  him.  Pie 
gained  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  learned  man  of 
his  time.  As  his  writings  prove,  he  was  a  theologian, 
a  musician  a  poet,  an  astronomer,  a  mathematician. 
He  was  widely  read  in  the  Bible,  in  the  Church  Fathers, 
and  in  the  classics ;  he  was  master  of  the  German, 
the  Latin,  and  the  Greek  languages.  I.  von  Arx,  "  Ge- 
schichte  von  St.  Gallen,"  I.  277.  His  extant  German 
writings  compose  the  second  and  third  volumes  of  Hatte- 
mer's  "  Monuments  of  the  Middle  Ages."  They  comprise 
in  special,  expositions  on  the  Psalms,  Aristotle,  Boethius, 
and  Marcianus  Capella,  as  well  as  a  treatise  on  music. 
Notker  the  Thick-lipped  died  of  the  plague  at  a  very 
advanced  old  age.  Before  his  death  he  underwent  public 
penance,  in  which  he  expressed  his  regrets  for  having, 
among  other  things,  once  killed  a  wolf  while  wearing  his 
monastic  garb. 

62.  Page  60.  The  passage  is  from  Aristotle's  "  Cate- 
gories," c.  36.  See  Notker's  translation  in  Hattemer, 
III.  401. 

63.  Page  62.  erat  ntiqne  ins  illonnn,  si  cut  adhiic  hodie 
quidem  est,  qno7iiavi  exleges  qiiidem  sunt,  nt  hospites  in- 
trantes  capiant,  captos,  usque  dum  se  redimant,  tefieant.  Ek- 
keh. IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  i,  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  91. 

64.  Page  62.  .  .  .  "enimvero  si  vixero,^^  ait,  '^  tne  redi- 
mam  et  talem  indolent  remiuiej'abo''    collectisque  qiiantotius 


NOTES  307 

ante  iamtam  scolarurti  fratrtim  priviis  statuit  ptieris  illis  et 
eorum  perpetiio  posteris  pro  testamento  singnlis  annis  hidi 
siii  tribtis  ab  i7nperio  statutis  diebtis  in  eisdem  scolarw7i  ccdi- 
btis  carnibus  vesci  et  de  abbatis  airte  singiilos  tribus  dojiari 
cescis  cottidie  et  potibus.  quod  cum  ipse  quidem  aimuatim 
prcesens  solvi  iuberet,  postea  ita  solutiim  est  usque  ad  Ungro- 
rum,  de  qjtibus  loco  suo  dicturi  sunius,  itivasioues.  Ekkeh. 
IV.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"c.  i. 

65.  Page  64.  Misdemeanors  against  the  rules  of  the 
order  were  visited  with  the  lash,  and  the  inmates  of  the 
monastery  voluntarily  submitted  to  it,  although  it  was  a 
slave's  punishment,  and  a  freeman  who  suffered  it,  there- 
by, according  to  the  old  popular  laws,  lost  his  freedom. 
The  culprit  was  bound  to  a  pillar  and  scourged  on  the 
bare  back.  A  scourging-room  like  the  one  here  described 
is  still  preserved  in  the  Wirtemberg  Monastery  of  Maul- 
bronn.  In  the  monastery  schools  the  rod  was  employed. 
That  the  instruments  of  flagellation  were  provided  with 
wittily  appropriate  names  by  those  who  had  to  suffer 
from  them  is  proved  by  Bishop  Salomo's  Dictionary,  in 
which  the  ajiguilla  (serpent  or  eel)  is  distinguished  from 
the  seutica  (strap). 

66.  Page  66.   Tacitus,  "German."  c.  8. 

67.  Page  66.  pectenes  eburnei  ...  In  the  Middle  Ages 
great  expense  was  lavished  on  combs.  The  silver-mounted 
jewelled  comb  of  the  Loml)ard  Queen  Theodolinde  in  the 
cathedral  treasury  at  Monza  is  well  known,  and  the  ivory 
comb  at  Bamberg,  originating  from  the  time  of  Heinrich 
II.  The  custom  of  accompanying  the  most  ordinary  and 
trivial  proceedings  of  daily  life  with  a  prayer  gave  rise  to 
the  composition  of  formulas  for  use  in  cutting  and  comb- 
ing the  hair,  dressing  the  beard,  etc.  MS.  395  in  the 
S.  Gall  Library  contains  a  scries  of  them,  and  since  it 
closes  with  a  benedict  io  ad  omiiia  qiue  valuer  is,  one  need 
no  longer  be  surprised  to  find  also  the  benedictio  ad  bar- 
bam  comeiidam,  ad  capillos  tondeudos,  etc. 


308  A'OTES 

68.  Page  67.  "  Regula  S.  Benedict!,"  c.  38,  "  De 
Hebdomadario  Lectore." 

69.  Page  68.  For  those  readers,  especially  among  the 
ladies,  who  are  less  conversant  with  Althochdentsch  than 
the  author  of  these  notes,  and  who  might  therefore 
have  some  curiosity  to  know  how  this  Psalm  would 
actually  have  sounded  in  Ekkehard's  mouth  and  in  his 
native  speech,  let  this  translation  of  Notker  Labeo's, 
which  was  made  a  few  decades  later,  serve  as  an  exam- 
ple :  Psalrmis  XL  V.  Kti6t  wort  iropfezta  min  herza. 
miniu  werch  sago  ih  demo  chiininge.  nmi  wort  ist  also 
stdie  also  dm  serif t  des  sptcdtigo  seribeiiten.  Sedtie  pist  du 
fore  alien  mhiniscon.  knada  ist  kebreitet  in  dinen  lefsen. 
fone  dm  segetidta  dih  Got  iw^hva.  Curte  dm  swert  umbe 
din  dieh  :  filo  gewdltigo,  mit  dinemo  menniscinen  bilde  unde 
mit  dinero  gotelichun  scdni.  Sih  an  linsih.  unde  frdm- 
spicotigo  cJnim  hhra  fone  hiinele  unde  richeso  hie/"  in  dinero 
ecclesia.  tcrnbe  warheit  nnde  ndmenti  unde  reht.  Unde 
leitet  dih  wtinderlicho  din  zescwa.  dine  strdla  sind  wasse, 
hdrto  mahtige.  Under  dih  sturzent  die  liuie,  in  demo 
herzen  des  chuninges  fiendo.  din  studl  Got,  unde  din  riche 
weret  iemer.  Kerta  gerihtennis  ist  dines  riches  kerta,  etc. 
See  Hattemer,  "Denkmale,"  etc.,  II.  \^6  et  seq. 

70.  Page  69.  Mush,  as  an  article  of  food,  was  so 
customary  at  S.  Gall  that  it  did  not  enter  into  Gero's 
mind  to  translate  the  word  cibi  (food)  by  anything  else 
than  mush  {mus),  and  the  word  ccenare  (to  eat)  by  any- 
thing else  than  evening-mush  {Abendmusen).  I.  v.  Arx, 
"Gesch."I.  178. 

71.  Page  69.  "  Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  39,  *'  De 
Mensura  Cibi." 

72.  Page  70.  Ilanch  prcrcellat  allcmannicus  et  mala 
pellat.  See  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  III.  599.  (In 
MS.  393,  especially  designated  as  the  "  Liber  Benedic- 
tionum,"  there  is  enumerated  such  an  abundant  menu  of 


NOTES  309 

fish  —  graylings,  lampreys,  and  others  —  that  one  lays  it 
down  with  a  sense  of  perfect  security  so  far  as  regards 
the  condition  of  the  monastery  kitchen  on  fast-days. 
Would  that  it  might,  by  means  of  an  unexpurgated  edi- 
tion, be  brought  before  a  still  wider  circle  of  gastronomi- 
co-philological  readers !) 

73.  Page  70.  Suetonius,  in  his  "Life  of  Augustus," 
c.  ']'].  However,  the  Emperor,  even  on  that  sad  day, 
did  not  drink  more  than  a  sextarhis  —  about  six  glasses. 

74.  Page  71.  "Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  40,  "  De 
Mensura  Potus." 

75.  Page  72.  Whether  the  abbot  was  right  in  thus 
assailing  the  German  language  as  it  was  spoken  at  that 
time  may  remain  in  question.  It  has  undergone  radical 
change  since  his  day ;  the  larger  part  of  the  strong,  pithy 
words  arising  from  a  constant  contact  with  nature,  as 
well  as  the  full,  harmonious  forms,  have  disappeared  and 
given  place  to  a  fresher  varnished  and  more  polished 
mode  of  speech.  But  to  us,  when  we  read  the  stiff  but 
noble  German  writings  of  the  old  Notker,  it  is  as  if  we 
felt  a  breath  of  spicy  mountain  air,  and  of  genuine  vener- 
able poesy,  interrupted  by  no  harsh,  discordant,  sparrow- 
chirping  or  raven-croaking  in  it. 

76.  Page  74.  "  Vita  S.  Benedicti  Abbatis  a  Gregorio 
Magno  Romano  Pontifice  Conscripta,"  c.  2,  "De  Tenta- 
tione  Carnis  Superata." 

77.  Page  75.  ...  de  voluntate  ipsitcs  cum  eo  pridie 
secreta  condixerat.     Ekkeh.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10. 

78.  Page  76.  Tutilo's  Robber  Story  :  see  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  10. 

79.  Page  77.  Notker  Labeo's  essay  —  see  Hattemer, 
"  Denkmale,"  etc.,  III.  586  et  seq. —  throws  much  light  on 
the  musical  instruments  of  that  time,  and  the  state  of 
music  at  S.  Gall.  The  description  of  the  instrument  in 
this  place  is  based  on  the   pictorial   representation   in 


3IO  NOTES 

Notker's  Psalmbook  (MS.  XXI.  in  the  S.  Gall  Library). 
One  of  the  pages,  containing  the  two  pen  and  ink 
sketches  which  form  the  frontispiece  of  the  book,  rep- 
resents King  David  sitting  on  his  throne,  and  playing 
a  seven-stringed  lyre  with  a  plectron.  In  the  four  cor- 
ners stand  four  men  \\ith  violin,  zither,  dulcimer,  and 
harp.  By  the  care  with  which  these  otherwise  deli- 
cately conceived  figures  are  executed,  it  is  evident  that 
the  artist  did  not  trust  to  his  imagination,  but  copied 
what  was  before  his  eyes. 

80.  Page  77.  .  .  .  qucc  aiitem  Tiitilo  dictaverat,  sin- 
gularis  et  agiioscibilis  nidodice  sunt,  quia  per  psalterium 
seu  per  rohtam,  qua  potentior  ipse  erat,  neurnata  (i.  e.  vo- 
cum  viodulatjones)  inventa  dulciora  sunt.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"S.  Gain,"  c.  3. 

81.  Page  "]"].  quid  vero  dies  ilia  consiinipserit,  Dotninus 
solus  novit. 

82.  Page  77.    cigneo  cnuore  dulcior  sonus. 

83.  Page  78.  alpina  siqtiidern  corpora  vocum  suanim 
tonitruis  a  It  is  one  perstrepentia  susceptiz  modulationis  dulce- 
dijiem  proprie  non  restdtant.  qicia  bibidi  gutiuris  barbara 
feritas,  dum  injiexionibus  et  repercussionibus  7nitem  nititur 
edere  cafztilena7/i,  tiaturali  qtiodam  fragore  quasi  plaustra 
per  gradus  confuse  sonantia  rigidas  voces  iactat.  A  musical 
amateur  of  S.  Gall,  who  chanced  afterwards  to  read  this 
Italian  criticism,  wrote  on  the  margin  :  vide  iactantiain 
rotnaniscafn  in  teutojies  et  gallos,  that  is  to  say :  "  Behold 
here  a  piece  of  Roman  impertinence  directed  against 
the  Germans  and  French."  See  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale," 
etc.,  I.  420. 

84.  Page  80.  Guest  friends,  according  to  mediaeval 
usage,  took  leave  of  each  other  with  exchange  of  gifts, 
kisses,  and  a  parting  cup.  These  formalities  were 
strictly  observed.  Bishop  Salomo  of  Constance,  when 
he  invited  the  Kamtnerbotcn,  or  messengers  of  the  Ex- 


NOTES  311 

chequer,  to  a  banquet,  presented  them  with  costly  glass 
goblets ;  and  although  they  bore  rancor  in  their  hearts, 
and  flung  the  goblets  on  the  floor,  smashing  them  into 
flinders,  nevertheless  the  parting  kiss  and  stirrup-cup 
were  interchanged:  ar?ioreque,  tit  inoris  est,  osculato  et 
epoto  Icztabiindi  discedunt.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli," 
c.  I,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  84.  See,  also,  "  Ruodlieb," 
Fragm.  III.  v.  221.  A  delightful  description  of  such 
courtesies  is  given  in  the  twenty-seventh  adventure  of 
the  Niebelungenlied,  where  King  Gunther  and  his  men 
take  leave  of  the  Margrave  of  Bechelaren.  Women, 
also,  did  not  think  it  derogatory  to  their  dignity  to  give 
their  guests  a  farewell  kiss  on  their  departure. 

85.  Page  80.  Such  a  show-piece  is  minutely  described 
in  the  Ruodlieb,  P'ragm.  III.  v.  309  et  seq. 

86.  Page  82.  Titlepage  inscriptions  of  this  kind, 
similar  to  those  traditionally  scribbled  by  children  in 
their  school-books,  are  frequently  found  in  the  MSS.  of 
those  days. 

87.  Page  83.  This  Psalmbook,  the  S.  Gall  ''Liber 
Sancti  Galli  Aureus,"  is  still  one  of  the  jewels  of  the 
monastery  library.  The  miniatures,  glittering  in  bright 
colors,  show  a  dexterous  hand,  and  are  full  of  motives 
borrowed  from  the  antique  ;  there  is  good  understanding 
of  drapery  and  figure,  and  a  certain  free  and  artistic 
boldness  of  touch  and  delicacy  of  color-sense.  The 
initials,  decorated  with  rich  arabesques,  and  the  archi- 
tectural details  framing  the  pictures,  give  us  insight 
into  the  forms  of  contemporary  buildings,  the  monu- 
mental vestiges  of  which  have  become  so  rare.  There 
are  also  to  be  seen  the  first  steps  in  the  decoration 
of  the  walls  in  ecclesiastical  buildings  with  frescos. 
A  certain  abbot  Immo  caused  a  number  of  episodes 
from  the  life  of  S.  Gallus  to  be  painted  on  the  walls  of 
the  cathedral ;  it  is  stated  that   subsequently  an  abbot 


312  NOTES 

Manegold  had  a  picture  de  materia  genealogicce  Christi, 
and  also  a  "Last  Judgment"  in  mtcro  bonis  coloribiis. 
See  "Casuum  S.  Galli  II.  Continuatio,"  c.  8.  Pertz, 
"  Monum."  II.  i6i.  lid.  v.  Arx,  "  Geschichte  des  Kantons 
St.  Gallen,"  I.  237.  The  wall  paintings  of  the  Reiche- 
nau  monastery  are  belauded  by  Burkhard,  in  Pertz, 
"  Monum."  IV.  629. 

88.  Page  84.  "  Vocabularius  Sancti  Galli,"  invalu- 
able to  the  philologist  on  account  of  its  store  of  old 
High  German  words,  is  still  extant,  and  has  been  many 
times  reprinted ;  e.  g  in  Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc., 
I.  11-14. 

89.  Page  85.  This  precious  memorial  from  the  time 
of  Louis  the  Pious  is  also  in  the  possession  of  the  S. 
Gall  Library.  Cf.  Keller,  "  Der  Bauriss  des  Klosters 
Sankt  Gallen." 

90.  Page  85.  ...  Thieto  ca7ninatani  qiia7ida7n  "vete- 
rum  seniorum  angtihtni "  vocatam  introiit.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  6.  Pertz,  "Monum."  II.  112.  Cf. 
also,  II.  135. 

91.  Page  89.  The  history  of  Bishop  Salomo  and  his 
controversy  with  the  Kamviei-boten  has  been  told  so 
often  that  it  is  now  rather  hackneyed.  The  circum- 
stances, which  have  grown  evidently  somewhat  legendary, 
are  described  by  Ekkehard  IV.  in  his  "  Casus  S.  Galli," 
c.  I.  A  singer  of  the  Suabian  school  worked  it  over 
into  a  series  of  ballads,  etc. 

92.  Page  89.  digneris,  domine,  et  hos  benedicere  fustes 
.  .  .  Benedictio  ad  capsellas  et  baailos  ad  iter  agentes  in 
MS.  395- 

93.  Page  91.  Ermenrici  ccenobitce  angiensis  tejitajnen, 
etc.,  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  II.  32.  The  author  of  the 
greater  annals  of  S.  Gall  also  calls  the  Reichenau  a 
hortiis  deliciariim.     See  Pertz,  "  Monum."  I.  79. 

94.  Page  92.    The  object  of  religious  worship  which 


NOTES  313 

brought  punishment  on  the  fishermen  of  Erwatingen 
seems  to  have  been  the  bronze  idol,  which  was  consid- 
ered a  Hercules  alemaiinicus,  and  which,  according  to  the 
account  of  Gallus  Oheim,  was  still  standing  on  the 
mound  of  the  Egino.  It  had  such  a  powerful  attraction 
over  that  renowned  antiquarian,  the  Emperor  Max  L, 
that  he  had  no  hesitation  in  carrying  it  off  and  setting  it 
up  at  Innsbruck,  just  as  he  had  carried  off  the  Nep- 
tunus  from  the  City  Gate  at  Ettlingen.  (Bader,  "  Das 
bad.  Land  und  Volk,"  I.  329.)  According  to  a  note  in 
G.  Schwab's  "  Bodensee,"  11.  239,  it  was  in  the  Museum 
of  Antiquities  of  the  Kurpfaltz,  or  Palatinate. 

95.  Page  93.    benedictio  vini  7iovi.     MS.  395. 

96.  Page  93.  .  .  .  eraiit  autem  dies  vindemicB,  qtiibtis 
fratres'ad  obedient ias  (i.  e.  labores  in  agro)  dimissi  sunt  per 
vineas.  Ekkeh.  "Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3.  Pertz,  "Monum." 
II.  97. 

97.  Page  94.  "  Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  31,  "De  Cel- 
lerario  Monasterii  qualis  sit." 

98.  Page  95.  See  "  Die  Edda,"  translated  by  Simrock, 
p.  14. 

99.  Page  96.  .  .  .  at  ilia  de  camera  egressa  sahttans 
conpatrem,  hospitem  ilhiin  dormire  putans,  optiilit  viro  mtcs- 
lum,  quo  ille  impigre  hausto  vaseque  reddito  matnmam  fx- 
tnitice  titillat  assentientis.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli," 
c.  3. 

100.  Page  97.  .  .  ,  hospesverovisofacinoreexilit,  ilium 
scelestum  inclamitans,  coinis  apprehensum  in  terram  dejicity 
flagelloque^  quo  ad  equum  usus  est,  adhuc  mamt  habito 
acritcr  hominem  cecidit  adjiciens:  "  hoc,  inquit,  tibi  Sa7tctus 
Gallus,  S.  Albani  Frater,  dedit ! "  Ekkeh  IV.  "Casus  S. 
Galli,"  c.  3.     Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  97.    . 

101.  Page  97.  dura  viris  et  dura  fide,  durissima  glcba  ! 
Notker. 

102.  Page  97.   Protospathar :  Commander  of  the  body- 


314  NOTES 

guard.     See  Gibbon,  "  History  of  the  Roman  Empire," 

c.  53- 

103.  Page  lOi.  .  .  .  cegre  exspectatus. 

104.  Page  I02.  .  .  .  fo7'tunate,  ait,  qui  tarn  pulchram 
discipulam  doce^e  habes  gratnmaticatfi  !  ad  quod  ille,  quasi 
caro  assensu  subridens,  talia  in  aiirem  adversaria  reddit 
amico:  sicut  et  tu,  sancte  Domini,  Kotelindam  monialem 
pulchram  discipulam  caram  docuisti  quidejn  dialecticavi. 
dictoque  citius,  cum  ille  nescio  quid  resibilare  vellet,  ab  eo 
divertefts,  equo  ascenso  indignanter  abivit.  Ekkeh.  IV. 
"  Casus  S.   Galli,"  c.  lo,  Pertz,  II.  124. 

105.  Page  104.  The  practice  of  hunting  was  dis- 
tinctly contrary  to  ecclesiastical  discipline.  An  Augs- 
burg Synod  in  952  (Pertz,  "  Monum."  IV.  27)  expressly 
forbids  bishops  and  the  clergy  from  indulging  in  dicing 
and  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  particularly  with  dogs  and 
falcons,  on  pain  of  deposition. 

106.  Page  104.  sticmata  :  pictura.  in  corpore,  quales 
Scotti  pinginit.  Gloss  of  a  S.  Gall  MS.  in  Hattemer, 
"  Denkmale,"  etc.,  I.  227  and  233.  The  custom  of  painting 
the  eyelids  and  tattooing  the  arms  seems  at  that  time  to 
have  been  a  favorite  one  among  the  Scotch  and  Irish.  The 
pictures  thus  etched  in  may  have  been  of  coarse,  almost 
incomprehensible  ugliness,  as  may  be  safely  concluded 
from  the  miniatures  of  Irish  origin  preserved  among  the 
MSS.  They  bear  a  strange,  and  —  if  the  term  is  permis- 
sible—  a  repulsive  Keltic  expression,  comparing  also  in 
their  wholly  barbarous  style  of  delineation  most  unfavor- 
ably with  the  contemporary  work  of  German  origin.  The 
Christ  on  the  crucifix  with  his  horseshoe-shaped  ara- 
besque-like beard  and  oddly  distorted  mouth,  and  the 
Evangelists  portrayed  in  the  guise  of  animals  give  a  dis- 
tinct impression  of  fetichism. 

107.  Page  106.  Silver  money  long  consisted  of  a 
sheet,  thin  as  a  leaf,   and  bearing  on  one  side  only  a 


NOTES  315 

coarse  deep  stamp  —  minimi  bradeali,  I.  von  Arx,  "  Ge- 
schichten,"  etc.,  I.  451. 

108.  Page  106.  They  prefer  being  hunters  rather 
than  teachers,  bemg  bold  rather  than  mild,  crafty  rather 
than  single-hearted.  .  .  .  They  play  with  vain  whirling  toys, 
and  do  not  even  shun  the  dice-box.  They  go  about  in- 
dustriously with  the  chessboard  instead  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, with  quoits  instead  of  books.  They  know  better 
what  a  miss  costs  you  than  what  salvation  demands,  for- 
bids, or  promises,  better  what  a  successful  throw  brings 
than  what  thanks  they  owe  to  God.  .  .  .  They  have  them- 
selves made  silver  bowls,  cups  of  great  costliness,  tank- 
ards {crater es),  yea,  verily  even  drinking-horns  {conchos) 
of  great  weight,  and  of  a  size  repugnant  to  every  age. 
They  decorate  their  wine-jars  and  drinking-vessels  while 
the  neighboring  basilica  is  full  of  soot."  Vogel,  "  Rathe- 
rius  of  Verona,  and  the  Xth  Century,"  I.  p.  44. 

109.  Page  106.  Moengal's  Latin  is  rather  wild.  But 
when  even  bishops,  even  in  the  Court  tongue,  make  use 
of  such  classic  expressions  as :  sic  omnes  perriparrii  pos- 
siint  bnbjis  agricolaiitibiis  vetrenere  (thus  all  peasants  while 
ploughing  may  roar  at  their  oxen),  and  when  historians 
put  them  into  their  text  (Monachus  San  Gall.,  "  Gesta 
Karoli,"  1. 19,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  739),  a  parish  priest 
may  be  allowed  to  exercise  some  discretion  in  his  Latin  ! 

110.  Page  108.  ..  .  Moejtgaly  postea  a  nostris  Marcellus 
diminutive  a  Marco  avuncido  sic  nominaius,  hie  erat  in 
divinis  et  humanis  eriiditissimtcs,  etc.  .  .  .  See  the  whole 
story  of  his  visit  at  the  monastery  in  Ekkeh.  "  Casus 
S.  Galli,"  c.  I,  Pertz,  II.  78. 

111.  Page  109.  .  .  .  in  campanariwn  S.  Galli  per  gradus 
ad  hoc  qtiidem  nobis  paratos  ascendere  incipit,  nti  oculis,  quia 
gressu  7ion  lictiit,  mofttes  cainposque  circufnspiciens,  vel  sic 
animo  suo  vago  satisfaceret.  Ekkeh.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3, 
Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  99. 


3l6  AZOTES 

112.  Page  no.  Moengal  was  right.  Not  long  ago  a 
learned  son  of  Erin's  green  isle  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
library  of  S.  Gall  to  examine  and  transcribe  the  work  of 
his  pious  compatriot.  Then  they  brought  to  him  the 
copy  of  Priscianus  in  its  binding  of  black  velvet,  and  he 
began  the  work ;  but  soon  a  muffled  burst  of  laughter 
surprised  the  librarians  in  the  great  hall,  and  when  they 
came  over  to  him,  the  rector  of  Dublin  translated  the 
Irish  glosses  to  the  Latin  as  follows  :  — 

Thank  God^  it  will  soon  be  dark! 

St.  Patrick  of  Armagh,  deliver  me  from  writing! 

O  that  a  glass  of  old  wine  were  by  my  side  ! 

Such  was  Moengal's  work  of  translation ! 

113.  Page  114.  The  cry  of  the  quail  seems  to  have 
had  to  the  ears  of  mediaeval  huntsmen  a  somewhat  differ- 
ent sound  from  what  it  has  to  us  of  the  present  day; 
for  the  word  quakkara  wherewith  the  monk  of  S.  Gall 
(" .  .  .  quakaras  etiam  et  alia  volatilia,^'  "  Gesta  Karoli,"  I, 
19,  in  Pertz,  II.  739)  designates  the  quail,  instead  of  using 
the  classical  cotiirnix,  is  evidently  intended  to  be  onomato- 
poetic,  giving  the  sound  of  the  quail's  voice.  This  ex- 
cellent writer,  in  whom  posterity  has  to  honor  one  of  the 
founders  of  hunting-Lafin,  may  have  gone  out  on  hunt- 
ing expeditions  after  quail  and  "  other  birds,"as  often  as 
any  author  of  later  times.  In  glosses  to  the  S.  Gall 
MSS.  the  quail  is  also  called  quasqicila  and  qiiatala.  See 
Hattemer,  "  Denkmale,"  etc.,  246,  etc. 

114.  Page  117.  Not  without  reason.  Herr  Luitfried 
attacked  the  Bishop  with  drawn  sword  and  overwhelm- 
ing him  with  insulting  words :  after  his  uncles  had  re- 
strained him  and  taken  council  what  to  do  with  their 
prisoner,  he  stipulated  that  either  his  eyes  should  be  put 
out,  or  his  right  hand  cut  off.     On  the  way  to  the  Thiet- 


NOTES  317 

poldsburg  the  ecclesiastical  princes  were  compelled  to 
kiss  the  feet  of  some  passing  swineherds ;  and  so  on. 

115.  Page  118.  .  .  ,  paratur  citissime  lavacrtim,  tit  pul- 
verc  et lassiticdinis  tergeretur  sitdore.  Ekkeh.  IV.  "Casus 
S.  Galli,"  c.  I,  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  86. 

116.  Page  121.  commoditas  talentiini  valet  I  (ancient 
monastic  proverb). 

117.  Page  127.  .  .  .  duelliuni  die  condicto  ctim  cegre  ex- 
spectatus  veniret,  tiUra  quani  ipse  vellet  siiscepticm  in  con- 
clave siio  proximictn,  stczttn,  tit  ipsa  ait,  Tnanu  dux  it  magis- 
triitn.  ibi  node  et  die  cum  familiari  aliqtia  inirare  solebat 
ad  legenduvi  pedissequa,foribtis  tamen  semper  apertis,  tit,  si 
quis  etiam  ausus  quid  esset,  nihil  quod  diceret,  sinistrum 
haberet. .  illic  quoqtie  crebro  ambos  ministri  et  milites,  prin- 
cipes  etiam.  terrce,  lectiojti  aut  consiliis  invenerunt  agentes. 
Ekkeh.  "Casus  S.  GalH,"  c.  10,  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  II. 
123. 

118.  Page  135.  See  Grimm,  "Deutsche  Rechtsalter- 
tumer,"  i.  Aufl.  p.  339. 

119.  Page  140.  See  Grimm,  "  Deutsche  Mythologie," 
3.  Ausg.  p.  695. 

120.  Page  150.  ..  .  vasque  magnum,  quod  vulgo  cupam 
vocant,  quod  viginti  et  sex  modios  amplius  minusve  capicbat, 
cerevisia  plenum  in  medio  habebant  positum"  "  Vita  S. 
Columbani." 

121.  Page  151.    Ausonius,  "  Idyll,"  7. 

122.  Page  151.  The  Alemanni-Swabian  heathendom 
was  based  on  a  naive  worship  of  Nature.  "  They  honor 
trees,  running  streams,  hills  and  mountain-chasms.  They 
cut  off  the  heads  of  horses,  cattle,  and  many  other  ani- 
mals, and  bring  them  to  these  as  battle  offerings,"  writes 
the  Greek  Agathias  in  the  sixth  century,  comparing 
the  Alemannians  with  the  Christian  Franks.  "  Pray 
to  no  idols,  neither  to  rocks  nor  to  trees,  neither  to 
solitary   places   nor    to   springs,  and   perform  not  your 


3l8  NOTES 

devotions  or  your  vows  on  the'  cross-ways,"  preaches 
S.  Perminius,  founder  of  the  Reichenau,  two  hundred 
years  later.  Any  one  who  knows  how  obstinately  the 
peasant  clings  to  the  traditions  of  hoary  antiquity,  and 
how  even  now  many  of  his  ordinary  customs  closely 
resemble  heathen  sacrifices,  will  not  be  surprised  to  come 
across  a  nocturnal  beer-drinking  conventicle  in  the  tenth 
century,  differing  little  if  at  all  from  those  which  were 
frequent  in  the  time  of  S.  Columban.  It  may  remain  an 
open  question  whether  a  prevailing  custom  of  common 
drinking  at  German  high  schools,  and  kno\^ai  under  the 
name  of  eine7i  Salamaiiderreiben,  with  ceremonies  some- 
what similar  to  those  here  described,  but  as  yet  never 
satisfactorily  explained,  may  not  go  back  in  its  origin  to 
ancient  heathen  drink-offerings  ;  but  science  is  a  unit  in 
regard  to  the  fact  that  "  through  the  religious  significance 
of  drinking  a  surprising  connection  is  brought  about 
between  many  other  customs." 

123.  Page  153.  The  stone  quarries  on  the  so-called 
Schienmer  Berg,  as  well  as  those  in  the  Oningen,  later 
became  famous  for  their  petrifactions,  especially  for 
curious  remains  of  birds.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
the  skeleton  of  a  giant  Salamander  was  exhumed  there, 
and  that  the  learned  investigator  Scheuchzer  in  1726 
regarded  it  as  a  fossil  man  :  it  was  Cuvier  who  pointed 
out  the  true  organization  of  this  "proof  of  the  Flood." 
Cf.  Burmeister,  "  Geschichte  der  Schopfung,  "  5.  Auflage, 
p.  518. 

124.  Page  155.  "Vita  Sancti  Galli,"  Lib.  I.  in 
Pertz,  "Monum."  II.  7. 

125.  Page  155.  The  duchess  here  shares  the  same 
practical  theories  of  proselyting  as  Pope  Gregory  the 
Great  in  his  time  formulated  in  a  missive  to  Abbot 
Mellitus,  and  the  Archbishop  Augustinus  of  England : 
"  Tell  Augustinus,"  he  says,  "  that  after  long  pondering 


NOTES  319 

over  the  conversion  of  the  English,  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  heathen  temples  among  these  people 
should  not  be  destroyed,  but  that  only  the  idols  therein 
should  be  annihilated ;  that  the  buildings  should  then  be 
sprinkled  with  holy  water,  altars  built  and  relics  placed 
in  them.  For  if  those  temples  are  well  built,  they  must 
be  con'\ferted  from  idolatrous  practices  to  the  service  of 
true  divine  worship,  in  order  that  the  people,  seeing  that 
their  temples  are  not  destroyed,  may  put  their  errors  out 
of  their  hearts,  recognize  the  true  God,  and,  with  all  the 
greater  alacrity,  assemble  in  the  places  so  familiar  to 
them.  And  since  the  people  are  in  the  habit  of  sacrific- 
ing many  oxen  to  their  idols,  this  custom  also  must  be 
converted  into  a  Christian  festival.  Accordingly,  on  the 
day  of  the  Church  consecration  or  on  the  festival  of  the 
holy  martyrs  whose  relics  are  deposited  in  their  churches, 
they  must  make  sheds  of  branches  around  the  former 
heathen  temples,  and  celebrate  with  religious  banquets, 
no  longer  offering  animals  to  the  Devil,  but  slaughtering 
them  for  food  to  the  honor  of  God,  in  order  to  thank  the 
Giver  of  all  things  for  their  blessings,  so  that  while  a  few 
outward  joys  are  left  to  them,  they  may  be  the  more 
disposed  to  inward  joys.  For  it  is  doubtless  impracti- 
cable all  at  once  to  cut  off  everything  from  unrefined 
minds,  and  because  even  he  who  will  mount  to  the  highest 
degrees  attains  his  end  l)y  slow  steps,  not  by  springing 
into  the  air."  See  Mone,  "  Geschichte  des  Heiden- 
tums,"  etc.,  II.  105. 

126,  Page  158.  The  nailing  up  of  horses'  skulls  was 
a  very  ancient  custom  among  the  Germans.  The  Roman 
legions  led  by  Caecina  into  the  depths  of  the  Teutoburg- 
erwald — the  Salhis  Teiitobiirgiensis  —  for  the  purpose  of 
paying  the  last  rites  to  those  who  fell  in  the  slaughter  of 
Varus  [b.  c.  9]  were  shocked  at  the  sight  of  the  skulls 
of  the  sacrificed  Romans  nailed  to  the  oak-tree  boles  and 


320 


NOTES 


grinning  do>vn  at  the  bleaching  skeletons  of  the  fallen 
warriors  and  the  battle  altars.  Tacitus,  "  Annal."  I. 
6i. 

127.  Page  159.  The  "  Lex  Salica  "  (ed.  Merkel),  c.  58, 
describes  the  noteworthy  custom  that  when  the  Ckrene 
Chruda  was  thrown  on  the  nearest  solvent  kinsman, 
this  person  was  obliged  to  assume  the  payment  of  the 
Wehrgeld  for  the  murder  committed  by  the  insolvent 
culprit.  No  very  satisfactory  explanation  has  as  yet 
been  given  of  the  term  Chretie  Chriida.  An  attempt  has 
been  made  to  translate  it  hy  gri'aics  Kraut  {grecii  grass) 
or  according  to  Grimm's  "  Rechtsaltertiimer,"  p.  116,  by 
reines  ICraut  (clean  grass),  because  the  evacuation  of  a 
piece  of  land,  or  the  transfer  of  a  field  to  another,  either 
by  purchase  or  as  a  security,  was  symbolically  represented 
by  the  conveyance  of  a  grass-grown  clod  or  a  piece  of 
sod.  But  according  to  the  Salic  law  what  was  thrown 
was  earth  collected  from  the  four  corners  of  the  room 
where  no  herb  grew.  See  Walter,  "Deutsche  Rechts- 
geschichte,"  §  443.  Since,  moreover,  this  custom  is  de- 
monstrably on  record  among  the  Salfranks  and  even 
there  was  very  early  done  away  with  ("  Lex  Salica  nov." 
262,  263,  264),  it  remains  rather  obscure  how  the  same 
could  have  been  made  valid  in  Alemannia  in  the  tenth 
century, 

128.  Page  161.  Many  bad  results  were  attributed  to 
the  "evil  eye"  of  witches;  it  could  make  infants  con- 
sumptive, tear  clothing  to  tatters,  kill  snakes,  frighten 
wolves,  hatch  ostrich  eggs,  bring  on  leprosy,  etc.,  etc. 
As  protection  against  such  "fascinating"  glances,  people 
were  accustomed  to  carry  \vith  them  the  paw  of  the 
common  blind  mole.  See  Grimm,  "  Deutsche  Mytholo- 
gie,"  p.  1053. 

129.  Page  162.  .  .  .  si  qiiis  mulierem  ^^  stria"  clama- 
verit  et  noit  potuerit  adprobare,  etc.,  "  Lex  Salica,"  c.  64. 


NOTES  321 

130.  Page  171. 

Din  got,  der  ist  ein  jimger  tbr^ 
ich  -will  glotiben  an  den  alien, 

St.  Oswald. 

131.  Page  1S2.  Folchardi  codex  aureus  (MS.  of  the 
S.  Gall  Library),  p.  75. 

132.  Page  185.  "A  history  of  German  cakes  and  rolls 
{Kiichen  nnd  Semmeln)  could  not  be  concocted  without 
unexpected  results."  Grimm,  "  Deutsche  Mythologie," 
3d  ed.,  p.  56. 

133.  Page  193.  Fair  Reader,  hast  thou  never  in  the 
silent  loneliness  of  midnight  occupied  thyself  in  shufHing 
cards,  or  melting  lead,  or  casting  lots,  in  the  hope  of  get- 
ting an  inkling  of  thy  future  lover }  All  these  means  of 
prognosticating  coming  events  are  vestiges  of  hoary 
heathendom.  —  So  also  the  Chamberlain  Spazzo's  ascent 
of  the  tower  seems  to  have  had  a  similar  object.  It  was 
not  an  unusual  thing  for  persons  on  New  Year's  Eve  to 
put  on  their  swords  and  mount  to  the  roof  of  the  house 
in  order  to  read  the  future.  See  Grimm,  "  Mythol." 
p.  1070. 

134.  Page  195.    .  .  .  sacratos  noctis  venerabilis  hymnos. 

135.  Page  196.  Concerning  the  prominent  counts 
and  noble  families  at  that  time,  see  Stalin,  *'  Geschichte 
von  Wirtemberg,"  I.  544  et  seq. 

136.  Page  196.  nova  stella  appariiit  insolitce  magtii- 
tndinis,  aspectii  fiilgicrans  et  ocnios  verberans  non  sine 
terrore.  "  Annales  S.  Gallenses  Maiores,"  in  Pertz, 
•'  Monum."  I.  8. 

137.  Page  196.  See  Berthold,"Der  Heerwurm,gebildet 
aus  Larven  der  Thomas-Trauermiicke,"  Gottingen,  1854. 

138.  Page  197.  The  pious  superstition  respecting  the 
immediate  approach  of  the  Day  of  Judgment,  and  the 
consequent  end  of  the  world,  was  very  widespread  in 
Karolingian  and  later  times.      Many  men  of  high  and 

VOL.  I.  —  21 


322  NOTES 

low  degree  felt  called  upon  to  make  gifts  to  the  Church 
as  a  means  for  their  souls'  salvation,  niimdi  tcr?ni;iiim 
appropiiiquaiitem  ruinis  crebrescentibus  Jafn  certa  sigfia 
manifestant.  Thus  begins  a  deed  of  donation  quoted  on 
p.  43S  of  "  Mone's  Anzeiger,"  1S3S. 

139.  Page  198.  From  the  beginning  of  the  ninth 
century  to  the  second  half  of  the  tenth,  the  incursions 
of  the  Huns  were  justly  regarded  as  one  of  the  regular 
calamities  to  which  the  German  provinces  were  exposed. 
North  and  South  suffered  from  their  visits.  Contempo- 
rary historians  call  them  sometimes  Avars  or  Agarenes, 
sometimes  Hungarians  (the  latter  name  being  in  popular 
etymology  derived  from  the  hunger  which  drove  them 
oiit  of  the  Steppes  of  Pannonia  .  .  .  intmmerabilis  eorion 
crevit  exercitus  et  a  fatne,  quam  patiebantur,  Hungri 
"vocati  sunt.  "  Epistola  Remigii "  in  Martene,  collect.  I. 
234).  Still  more  often  they  were  called  Huns,  although 
their  derivation  from  the  Hun  King  Etzel,  or  Attila,  by 
no  means  belongs  to  the  established  facts  of  history. 
We  have  called  them  Huns  in  our  narrative. 

A  circumstantial  description  of  this  strange  nation  of 
horsemen  is  given  by  Regino  in  his  "  Chronicon.  ad  ann. 
8S9  "  (Pertz,  "  Monum."  I.  600).  The  picture  which  he 
gives  of  these  fierce,  all-devastating  monsters,  who  lived 
in  their  saddles,  and  kept  up  their  strength  and  courage 
by  devouring  the  hearts  of  their  enemies,  leaves  a  frightful 
impression  on  the  mind ;  and  would  arouse  a  still  deeper 
sentiment  of  pity  for  those  who  suffered  from  their  in- 
cursions if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  that  it  is  for  the  most 
part  a  literal  transcription  from  the  second  and  third 
chapters  of  the  forty-first  book  of  the  History  of  Jus- 
tinus,  who  characterizes  the  Scythians  in  that  way.  The 
repeated  raids  into  the  Alemannian  land  are  mentioned 
in  the  "  Alaman.  Annalen,"  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  I.  54;  the 
victory  on  the  Inn  won  over  them  by  the  Kammerboten 


NOTES  323 

and  the  Argengaugraf  Ulrich  in  the  "  Annales  S.  Gal- 
lenses  Maior."  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  I.  77. 

140.  Page  202.  See  G.  Schwab, "  Der  Bodensee  nebst 
dem  Rheinthale,"  Teil  II. 

141.  Page  203.  These  words  of  Ekkehard  are  in 
harmony  with  the  common  Alemannian  law,  which  was 
well  known  to  the  monks  of  S.  Gall,  and  yet  they 
seem  to  rest  on  a  certain  misunderstanding.  In  tit.  99, 
No.  22  (ed.  Lindenbrog),  the  following  definition  is  to  be 
found:  — 

"  When  a  strange  dog  has  killed  a  man,  its  owTier  shall 
pay  half  Wehrgeld  to  the  relatives  of  the  defunct.  If 
the  family  of  the  victim  demand  the  whole  Wehrgeld, 
then  it  must  be  allowed,  but  only  on  this  condition,  that 
all  approaches  to  the  house  save  one  are  to  be  closed, 
that  they  shall  for  all  time  use  this  one  door  for  entrance 
and  egress,  and  that  over  this  door  the  vicious  dog  shall 
be  hanged,  and  remain  hanged  at  a  height  of  nine  feet 
until  it  shall  have  rotted  and  its  bones  have  fallen  apart. 
If  the  inhabitants  of  the  house  attempt  to  get  rid  of  the 
dead  dog  or  to  enter  l)y  some  other  way,  they  shall  forfeit 
the  half  Wehrgeld  already  paid,  and  be  debarred  from  all 
further  claim." 

This  statute,  which  goes  back  to  a  very  remote  antiquity, 
has  for  its  foundation-motive  to  attach  a  certain  stigma 
upon  the  relatives,  who  might  be  altogether  too  grasping 
in  their  claims  against  the  innocent  owner  of  the  dog,  and 
to  restrain  them  from  claiming  the  utmost  damages  which 
the  law  formally  allowed  in  the  case  of  a  violent  death. 
The  ancient  Norse  law  had  a  similar  provision.  See 
Grimm,  "  Rechtsaltertiimer,"  p.  665. 

142.  Page  207.  Medical  science  in  our  day  no  longer 
makes  use  of  these  and  similar  remedies.  They  are 
based  partially  on  the  theory  that  diseases  are  attribu- 
table to  the  influence  of  demons.     Many,  however,  of 


324  NOTES 

the  official  prescriptions  of  that  day,  are  still  found  in 
the  so-called  "sympathetic  remedies,"  which  by  an  un- 
broken tradition  going  back  through  long  generations  of 
peasants,  shepherds,  and  smiths,  who  even  at  the  present 
obstinately  pin  their  faith  to  them,  have  their  origin  in 
the  remotest  darkness  of  heathendom.  How  a  remedy 
similar  to  that  above  mentioned  was  accompanied  by 
excellent  results  is  told-  us  by  the  French  historian, 
Gregory  of  Tours,  in  his  book  on  the  Miracles  of  S. 
Martinus,  from  his  own  experiences  :  "  In  the  second 
month  after  his  ordination  as  bishop,  he  was  so  severely 
attacked  by  dysentery  that  his  life  was  despaired  of. 
When  every  remedy  remained  ineffectual,  he  caused 
some  dust  from  the  grave  of  the  saint  to  be  brought, 
took  it  in  a  decoction  about  the  third  hour  of  the  day, 
and  was  so  immediately  relieved  that  about  three  hours 
later  he  went  to  his  dinner."  Lobell,  "  Gregor  von  Tours 
und  seine  Zeit,"  p.  277. 

An  expert  physician  would  certainly  find  many  inter- 
esting facts  regarding  the  science  of  medicine  in  the 
past,  in  the  "  Tractatus  Insignis  Medicinalis  "  of  the  S. 
Gall  MS.  105. 

143.  Page  207.    .  .  .  nihil  fame  iviprobrius  et  sacy-itis  ! 

144.  Page  208.  At  least  G.  Schwab,  in  his  work  on 
the  Rodensee,  reckons  among  the  "  notable  things  of 
Sipplingen,"  under  No.  3,  "  The  Sipplinger  wine  as  the 
worst  on  the  Lake."  Of  late,  however,  the  juice  of  the 
grape  there  has  become  considerably  better  than  its 
reputation  ! 

145.  Page  208.  See  Einhardi,  "  Vita  Karoli  Magni," 
c.  13,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  p.  449. 

146.  Page  209.  See  Gibbon,  "  History  of  the  Roman 
Empire,"  c.  35. 

147.  Page  210.  ^^scitis"  inquit,  '^  o  fideles  mei,  quid 
tantopere  ploraverim  ?  "     "  non  hoc,'"  ait,  "  timeo,  quod  isti 


NOTES  325 

migceet  nihili  mihi  aliquid  nocere  prcBvaleant:  sed  nimirum 
contristor,  quod  me  vivente  ausi  sunt  litus  istiid  attingere,  et 
maximo  dolore  torqiteor,  quia  prcevideo,  quanta  mala  pos- 
teris  meis  et  eortim  sunt  facturi  subjectis."  "  Monachi  S. 
Gallens.  Gesta  Karoli,"  II.  22,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II. 

757- 

148.  Page  211.  This  conception  of  the  much-dis- 
cussed and  significant  coronation  at  Rome,  on  Christmas 
Eve,  800,  of  Charlemagne  as  emperor,  and  protector  of 
the  Romish  Church,  corresponds  to  the  idea  which  con- 
temporaries had  of  •  the  affair.  The  pope,  who  was 
anxious  to  be  rid  of  the  burdensome  protectorate  and 
oversight  of  his  Byzantine  suzerains,  had  his  settled 
plan,  even  if  he  did  not  comprehend  the  whole  wide- 
sweeping  consequences  of  the  event.  On  the  part  of  the 
French  monarch,  the  assumption  of  this  imperial  dignity 
was  an  act  of  usurpation  against  the  more  legitimate 
Byzantines,  and  it  is  easy  to  explain  why  the  narrators 
assert  that  he  would  never  on  that  day  have  set  foot 
across  the  doorsill  of  St.  Peter's,  if  he  could  have  pene- 
trated the  pope's  designs.  See  "  Monachus  San  Gallen- 
sis,"  and  "Einhardi  Vita  Karoli  Magni,"  cap.  16  and  28. 

149.  Page  212.  See  Hincmar  von  Rheims,  Annals, 
ad ann.  862,  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  I.  458. 

150.  Page  214.  See  the  chronicle  of  the  Lame  Her- 
mann of  Reichenau,  ad  a7in.  888,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
V.  109. 

151.  Page  215.  ...  vel,  ut perturbatores  reipublicce  dig- 
num  est  pati,  usque  ad  cinerem  concreviati  et  in  omnem 
ventum  dispersi  cum  nominibus  vel  potius  ignominia  et 
memoria  sua  condemnentur  in  secula  !  "  Erchanberti  Bre- 
viarium,  ad  ann.  880,"  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  330. 

152.  Page  217.  The  figure  of  the  old  man  of  the 
Heidenhohle  might  give  rise  to  some  historic  doubts. 
All  the  indications  point  to  Karl  the  Fat,  but  he  had 


326  NOTES 

been  certainly  dead  for  some  time,  before  the  first  hour 
of  the  tenth  century  struck.  But  what  history  cuts  apart 
legend  puts  together  again ;  and  as  it  once  provided  a 
place  for  the  Ostgothic  Dietrich  of  Bern  in  the  Niebe- 
lungenlied,  to  which  he  has  no  provable  claims,  judging 
by  his  historical  precedents,  so  in  the  same  way  it  has 
been  pleased  to  remove  the  last  representative  of  the 
Carolingian  dynasty  to  a  quiet  place,  and  to  confer  upon 
him  a  character  for  righteousness  which  his  contempo- 
aries  denied  to  him. 

A  rumor  that  the  old  emperor  did  not  die  a  natural 
death,  but  was  strangled  by  his  enemies,  is  mentioned  by 
the  monk  of  Vaast  in  his  chronicles,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum." 
II.  203.  But  the  people  who  kept  in  their  hearts  a  very 
different  picture  of  him  from  that  which  partisan  hatred 
delineated  with  distorted  features  for  the  benefit  of  pos- 
terity, and  who  found  no  reason  in  the  misery  which  set 
in  during  the  next  decade  for  hailing  his  deposition  as  the 
dawn  of  better  things,  clung  to  the  firm  belief,  especially 
in  Alemannia,  that  he  was  not  dead  but  that  he,  like 
many  another  hero  both  in  earlier  and  later  times,  was 
living  concealed  in  some  cavern,  waiting  for  the  right 
moment  to  emerge  again  and  grasp  the  reins  of  power. 
Many  revolts  in  Alemannia  against  the  emperor  who 
mounted  the  throne  after  the  fall  of  Karl  der  Dicke 
bore  witness  to  the  love  which  was  felt  for  his  deposed 
ancestor. 

Modern  history,  also,  is  beginning  to  recognize  the 
true  grounds  of  the  deposition,  and  the  wrongs  after- 
wards perpetrated  upon  the  fat  emperor,  and  it  is  granted 
that  the  machinations  of  the  higher  clergy,  who  at  that 
time  were  deeply  engaged  in  the  introduction  into  Ger- 
many of  the  pseudo-isodorian  ecclesiastical  law,  and  who 
needed  an  emperor  complaisant  to  their  arbitrary  en- 
deavors,  were    in   large   measure   responsible   for    that 


NOTES 


327 


deposition.  See  Gfrorer,  "  Geschichte  der  ost-  und  west- 
frankischen  Karolinger,"  II.  293. 

153.  Page  217. 

"  fortis  jtivcntus^  virtus  audax  bcllica, 
vestra  per  muros  audiantur  carmina^ 
et  sit  in  armis  alterna  vigilia, 
ne  fraus  hostilis  hcBC  invadat  moenia. 
restcltat  echo  comes :  eja,  vigila  ! 
per  muros  eja  dicat  echo  vigila  !  " 

Danger  teaches  the  making  of  verses  !  The  song  of  the 
night  guards  of  Modena,  the  complete  text  of  which  is 
given  by  Muratori  in  his  "  Antiq.  Ital."  III.  709,  equals 
in  its  warmth  and  rhythmical  swing  the  war-songs  of  any 
time.  A  gong  of  petition,  in  the  same  metre,  asking 
S.  Germinianus  for  protection  and  aid  against  the  Huns, 
is  to  be  found  in  Muratori,  ''  Antiq.  Ital."  I,  22. 

154.  Page  218.  The  people  were  summoned  and 
gathered  together  by  the  erection  of  the  banner.  It  was 
customary  in  the  North  in  the  case  of  hostile  invasion  to 
send  a  messenger  in  all  haste  to  collect  the  people  by 
means  of  an  arrow,  heror,  the  Heerpfeil.  See  Grimm, 
"  Rechtsaltertiimer,"  161,  162.  [English  readers  will  re- 
call the  celebrated  summons  in  Scott's  "  Lady  of  the 
Lake,"  Canto  III.] 

155.  Page  220.  Walafrid  Strabo,  abbot  of  the  Reich- 
enau,  a  much-lauded  poet  of  the  Carolingian  epoch. 
Many  of  his  Latin  poems  are  permeated  by  a  tender  spirit, 
which  recalls  the  elegiac  writers  of  antiquity.  Among 
them  there  is  to  be  found  a  description  of  his  monastery 
garden,  and  also  an  elegy  to  his  mistress  {ad  amicani), 
and  it  is  to  this  that  Simon  Bardo's  utterance  seems  to 
refer.  The  beginning  of  the  last-mentioned  poem  is 
certainly  very  delicate  :  — 

When  with  her  mild  sweet  beams  the  moon  through  the  azure  is 
shining, 


328  NOTES 

Then,  O  friend  of  my  heart,  look  up  through  the  night  unto 

heaven  ; 
Do  not  forget  how  her  light  so  pure  from  those  regions  is  pouring 
Down  o^er  the  earth,  and  embracing  tis  doth  in  her  sweet  bene- 
faction ; 
Both,  —  though  far  apart  we  may  be,  yet  in  love  are  ez'er  together. 
Attd tho7igh  my  eyes  may  never  again  see  the  eyes  of  iny  mistress. 
Still  will  the  moon  remaitt  as  a  pledge  of  our  tnarriage  undying. 

156.  Page  220.  Greek  fire,  a  mixture  of  naphtha, 
sulphur,  and  pitch,  inextinguishable  in  water,  as  early  as 
the  year  716  performed  good  services  against  the  Sara- 
cens when  they  were  besieging  Constantinople,  and  in  941 
saved  the  capital  from  a  Russian  fleet,  which  under  Igor, 
the  son  of  Rurik,  threatened  to  accomplish  the  then  cur- 
rent prophecy  that  "  the  Russians  in  the  last  days  would 
become  masters  of  Constantinople."  The  use  of  it  grew 
into  a  regular  art  of  artillery,  and  was  preserved  by  the 
Greek  emperors  as  a  weighty  State  secret.  The  French 
crusaders,  led  by  St.  Louis  to  the  East,  describe  with 
genuine  horror  the  appearance  of  the  destructive  mis- 
siles.    See  Joinville,  "  Histoirede  St.  Louis,"  Paris,  1668, 

P-  39- 

157.  Page  222.  .  .  .  ipse  vclut  Domini  gigatis  lorica 
induttis,  cucullafu  superinduens  et  stolam,  ipsos  eadeinfacere 
jubet :  '^'^  contra  diaholum,  ait,  fratres  mei,  quam  hactenus 
animis  in  Deo  confisi  piignaverinius,  ut  nunc  manibiis  os- 
tendere  valeamus,  ab  ipso  petamus.'"  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S. 
Galli,"  c.  3,  Pertz,  II.  104. 

158.  Page  222.  Jornandes,  "  De  Rebus  Geticis,"  c.  24. 

159.  Page  223.  .  .  .  tollcnsque  mami  sua  de  pallia  suo 
Jilum  projecit  in  terrain  et  dixit :  "  ecce  in  testimonium  per- 
fectcB  remissionis  filum  de  pallia  meo  prajicio  in  terram,  ut 
cunctis  patent,  quod  pristina  deinceps  adnulletur  inimicitiaV 
"Vita  S.  Sturmi,"  c.  iS,  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  IL  374. 

160.  Page  224.    The  emerald  here  mentioned  is  still 


NOTES  329 

to  be  seen  among  the  ecclesiastical  treasures  of  the  Parish 
Church  of  Mittelzell  on  Reichenau.  It  shared  the  fate 
of  the  famous  emerald  platter  of  Genoa  which  was  re- 
garded as  sacro  catiiio  for  the  priceless  palladium  of  the  city, 
and  in  the  Napoleonic  wars  v/as  brought  as  such  to  Paris, 
where  the  committee  of  investigation  appointed  from  the 
French  Institute  (1809)  pronounced  it  to  be  only  colored 
glass,  —  a  lack  in  romantic  sentiment  which  "  essentially 
mitigated  "  the  mortification  of  returning  the  prize  to  the 
Genoese.  It  was  very  essential  for  churches  to  have 
such  show-pieces  in  their  treasuries  in  order  to  be  able,  in 
case  of  necessity,  to  negotiate  a  material  loan  on  their 
security. 

161.  p.  225.  erat  tunc  internostrates  frater  quidam  sim- 
plicissimus  et  fatuus,  ciijus  dicta  et  facta  scepe  ridebantur, 
nomine  Heribaldus  .  .  .  Ekkeh.  **  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3. 

162.  Page  226.  .  .  .  ^*  enimvero,  ait  ille,  fiigiat,  qui 
velit ;  ego  quidem,  quia  cor  item  meum  ad  calceos  camera- 
rites  hoc  anno  non  dedit,  nusquam  fugiam  !  "     Ekkeh.  1.  c. 

163.  Page  228.  fabricantur  spicula,  piltris  loricce  fiujity 
fundibula  plectuntur,  tabulis  compactis  et  wannis  scuta 
simulantur,  sparrones  et  fustes  acute  focis  prcedurantur, 
Ekkeh.  1.  c. 

164.  Page  230.    "  ^neis,"  VII.  631,  ^/  seq. 

165.  Page  231.  .  .  .  ^(^w/Az//^  z/zVaV/.  "  Vita  Liutger." 
in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  I.  412. 

166.  Page  235.  Described  in  detail  and  with  mutually 
complementary  details  in  Ekkeh.  IV.  "  Casus  S.  Galli," 
c.  3,  and  the  Lives  of  S.  Wiborad  (see  note  40)  especially 
in  Hepidan.  "  Vita  Wiboradce,"  c.  VI.  24.  ('*  Acta  Sane- 
tor."  Mai.  I.  305). 

167.  Page  238.  .  .  .  ^^  locum  enim,  quern  contra  ver- 
sutias  antiqui  hostis  pugnatura  elegi,  Deo  juvante,  spiritu 
redeunte  ad  eum  qui  dedit  ilium,  etiam  cor  pore  tegam  !  " 
Hepidan  1.  c.  p.  304. 


330  NOTES 

168.  Page  244.  .  .  •  quasi  catieni  audierat  muss itautcyn 
.  .  .  et  intellexit  temptatoreni :  "  esue  tu,  iiiquit  iteruni  ibi  ? 
quam  bene  tibi  miser  contigit  nunc  mzissitanti  et  gruntiienti 
post  gloriosas  voces  illas,  quas  in  ccelis  habueras  ?  "  Ekkeh. 
"  Casus  S.  Gain,"  c.  3,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  98. 

169.  Page  246.  "  Regula  S.  Benedicti,"  c.  53,  "De 
Hospitibus  Suscipiendis." 

170.  Page  249.  .  .  Augustaque  din  obsessa,  precibus 
Uodabrici  episcopi,  sajictissimi  quidem  inter  omnes  tutic 
teniporis  viri,  repulsi.  .  .  .  Ekkeh.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3. 

171.  Page  251.  See  Grimm,  "  Deutsche  Mythologie," 
p.  269. 

172.  Page  256.  As  early  as  the  time  of  Charlemagne 
there  existed  a  lively  trade  with  the  Slavs  and  Avars. 
("  Capitulare  "  of  808,  in  Pertz,  "Monum." III.  133)  and  the 
northern  part  of  the  empire  obtained  the  products  of  the 
South.  Ermoldus  Nigellus  (t  836)  in  his  pathetic  poems 
names  Friesia^  merchants  as  buyers  of  the  Alsatian  wine, 
which  they  carried  back  with  them  to  the  Rhine.  On 
the  middle  Neckar,  also,  they  were  well  known.  See 
Stalin,  "  Wirtemberg.  Geschichte,"  I.  402. 

173.  Page  256.  In  a  temple  was  an  idol  called 
Triglaff,  and  near  it  hung  many  weapons  and  pieces  of 
armor  which  had  been  captured  in  battle  and  presented 
to  the  god,  and  gold  and  silver  beakers  with  which  obla- 
tions were  made  and  prognostications  of  the  future  ob- 
tained, and  out  of  which  the  nobles  were  accustomed 
to  drink  on  high  festival  days ;  also  great  urochshorns 
mounted  in  silver,  and  war  trumpets,  swords,  and  dag- 
gers, and  other  costly  weapons  and  utensils,  all  beauti- 
fully and  richly  adorned,  and  presented  to  the  idol.  .  .  . 
And  the  idol  Triglaff  was  of  gold,  and  had  three  heads,  for 
which  reason  he  is  so  called,  for  Triglafi  [Slav,  Tri,  three, 
and  Glavd,  a  head]  in  Wendish  means  three  heads,  by 
which  they  wish  to  signify  that  he  is  one  God  over  heaven, 


NOTES  331 

earth,  and  hell.  S.  Otto  took  it  away  with  him  and  sent  it 
to  the  Pope  Honorius  as  a  prize,  and  as  a  proof  of  the  con- 
version of  the  Pomeranians.  —  Thomas  Kanzow,  "  Pome- 
rania,  oder  Ursprunck,  Altheit  und  Geschicht  der  Volcker 
und  Lande  Pommern,  Cassuben,  Wenden,  Stettin,  Rhiigen  " 
(ed.  Kosegarten),  p.  107. 

174.  Page  258.  .  .  .  fatidtatis  monstrtim  tibi  sentiunty 
omnes  illi  risibiles parcuiit.     Ekkeh.  "  Casus  S.  Galli,"  c.  3. 

175.  Page  260.  .  .  .  nat7i  cum  quidam  illoriwi  ascia 
vibrata  timtm  retmaculorum  succideret.,  Heribaldiis  inter  eos 
Jam  domestice  versatus :  "  sine,  iitquit,  vir  bone,  quid  vis  vero, 
ut  nos,  postqiiam  abieritis,  bibamus  ?  "     Ekkeh.  1.  c. 

176.  Page  260.  See  Ekkehard's  story,  in  Pertz, 
"  Monum."  II.  104. 

177.  Page  264.  postqicam  vero  mero  incaluerant,  horri- 
dissinie  diis  suis  omties  vociferabant  .  .  .  1.  c.  The  song 
may  refer  to  Attila's  adventure  with  the  sister  of  the 
Emperor  Valentinian,  the  Princess  Honoria,  who  in  re- 
venge for  being  put  into  a  convent  on  account  of  her 
predilection  for  a  man  of  much  lower  rank,  Eugenius 
her  chamberlain,  sent  the  barbarian  monarch  a  ring  and 
besought  him  to  take  her  as  his  betrothed  wife.  See 
Gibbon,  "  History  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  c.  35. 

178.  Page  265.  .  .  .  et  effusa  Icetitia  saltant  coram 
principibus.     Ekkeh.  IV.  I.  cit. 

179.  Page  266.  cambutta,  scottica  vox,  bacuhim  sio;nifi- 
cans.  After  S.  Columban's  death  his  shillelah  was  pre- 
sented to  S.  Gallus  as  a  memorial.  See  "Vita  Sancti 
Gain,"  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II.  14,  and  I.  von  Arx's  note. 
It  would  be  a  very  great  mistake  to  imagine  such  a  cam- 
butta as  less  elegant  because  it  was  club-shaped,  since  we 
have  a  truly  frightful  description  of  an  ordinary  walking- 
stick  of  a  contemporary  of  Charlemagne's  .  .  .  bacuhis  de 
arbore  malo,  nodis  paribus  admirabilis,  rigidus  et  terribilis  ! 
"  Monachus  San  Gallensis,"  I.  34,  in  Pertz,  "  Monum."  II. 
747. 


332  NOTES 

180.  Page  271.  .  .  .  ubictinqiie  autem  ha  reliquice 
fuejint,  illic pax  et  augmentiini  et  lenitas  aeris  semper  erit. 

"  Annales  San  Gallens.  Maior."  in  Pertz,  "Monum."  I.  71. 

181.  Page  275.  "The  Revelation,"  S.  John  xx.  7.  It 
was  commonly  held  that  the  Gog  and  Magog  of  the 
Scriptures  were  embodied  in  the  Hungarians,  and  they 
were  regarded  as  the  precursors  of  the  end  of  the  world. 
The  question  was  subjected  to  serious  theological  inves- 
tigation. See  Gibbon,  "  History  of  the  Roman  Empire," 
c.  55^  II. 

182.  Page  276.  The  honor  of  being  the  first  of  the 
German  army  to  engage  in  battle  was  regarded  by  the 
Suabians  as  their  immemorial  right.  According  to 
the  Schwabenspiegel  or  ancient  code  of  Suabia  Charle- 
magne grants :  zwa  man  umbe  des  riches  not  striteii  solte, 
da  stilen  die  swabe  vor  alien  sprachen  striien.  [When  there 
is  to  be  a  battle  in  defence  of  the  realm,  then  the  Suabians 
are  to  take  precedence  of  all  the  other  nationalities  in 
beginning  the  engagement.]  "  Landrecht  "  §  32.  A  series 
of  other  passages  from  historians  and  poets  to  the  same 
effect  are  found  in   Stalin,  "  Wirtemberg.  Geschichte," 

I-  393- 

183.  Page  277.  Waffen,  feiiidio !  the  ancient  clamor 
ad  arma,  war-cry,  or  alarum.  See  Grimm,  "  Rechtsalter- 
tiimer,"  p.  876.  A  similar  form  —  a  strengthening  of  the 
substantive  by  means  of  an  appended  exclamation  —  is 
found  in  the  cries  for  help,  Mordio  [murder],  Feurio 
[fire],  etc. 

184.  Page  281.  "I  myself,"  said  Attila  to  his  war- 
riors before  the  battle  in  the  Catalaunian  fields,  "I  my- 
self will  hurl  the  first  spear,  and  the  wretch  who  hesitates 
to  follow  his  leader's  example  is  doomed  to  inevitable 
death."     See  Gibbon,  c.  35  (7). 

185.  Page  284.  As  late  as  the  XVIth  Century  the 
German  militia  retained  the  custom  of  flinging  a  handful 


NOTES  333 

of  soil  back  over  the  head  before  they  entered  into  the 
tumult  of  the  conflict.  Thus  did  the  gallant  Georg  von 
Freundsberg  before  the  battle  of  Pavia. 

186.  Page  285.  We  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  the 
simple,  splendid  text  of  Notker's  song,  "  Media  Vita,"  as 
we  find  it  incorporated  in  I.  von  Arx's  ''History  of  the 
Canton  of  S.  Gall,"  I.  p.  95 :  — 

"  media  vita  in  morte  suimis,  quern  qiicerimus  adjiitorem^ 
nisi  te  domine,  qui  pro  peccatis  nostris  iuste  irasceris. 

V.  in  te  speraverunt  patres  nostri,  speraverunt  et  liberasti 
eos. 

R.  sancte  deus. 
V.  ad  te  damaverunt  patres  nostri,  clamaverunt  et  non 
sunt  confusi. 

R.  sancte  fortis. 
V.  ne  despicias  nos  in  tempore  senectutis,  cum  defecerit 
virtus  nostra,  ne  derelinquas  nos. 

R.  sancte  et  misericors  salvator,  amarce  morti  ne  tt-adas 
nos." 

[Von  Scheffel's  own  rhymed  translation  reads :  — 

Ach,  unser  Leben  ist  nur  halbes  Leben, 
Des  Todes  Boten  stdndig  tins  umschweben ! 
Wen  mo  gen  wir  als  Helfe  uns  erfiehen, 
Ah  dichy  0  Herr  I  den  Richter  der  Vergehen  ? 
Hdliger  Gott! 

Dein  harrten  unsre  Vdter  schon  mit  Sehnen^ 
Und  du  er  Ids  est  sie  von  ihren  Thrdnen, 
Zu  dir  hinauf  erging  ihr  Schrein  und  Rufen^ 
Du  ivarfst  sie  nicht  von  deines  Thrones  Stufen, 
Starker  Gott ! 

Verlass  uns  nicht,  wenn  Unkraft  uns  befallen^ 

Wenn  unser  Mtit,  sei  Stab  uns  alien  ; 

O  gieb  uns  nicht  dem  bittern  Tod  zum  Raube, 

Barmherz' ger  Gott,  du  tinser  Hort  utid  Glaube! 

Heiliger  Gott,  heiliger  starker  Gott  ! 

Heiliger  barmherziger  Gott,  erbarme  dich  unser  ! 


334  NOTES 

It  may  be  roughly  rendered  into  English  :  — 

Alas  !  our  Fate  in  midst  oj  life  hath  found  us! 
Deaths  messengers  forever  hover  round  us  ! 

IVhom  may  we  call  oti  when  we  be  faint-hearted^ 
Save  Thee,  O  Lord,  the  Judge  of  the  Departed? 

Most  holy  God  ! 
On  Thee  our  sires  did  wait  wheti  low  and  needy. 

Thou  earnest  to  their  help  with  succor  speedy. 

To  Thee  arose  their  prayer  with  cry  and  groan  : 

Thou  didst  not  hurl  t hern  from  before  Thy  throne. 
Mighty  God! 

Oh  leave  us  Jiot  when  foes  make  us  afraid.' 
And  when  our  courage  fails,  be  Thou  our  aid. 
To  bitter  Death  do  not  our  souls  deliver, 
Compassionate  God,  of  all  gifts  the  giver  ! 
Most  holy  God  /  most  holy  mighty  God  ! 
Most  holy  compassionate  God  !  have  pity  o?i  us! 

It  found  such  a  ready  response  in  the  hearts  of  pious 
combatants  that  a  synod  at  Cologne  found  itself  com- 
pelled to  ordain  that  the  "  Media  Vita  "  should  never  be 
sung  cgainst  any  one  without  the  Bishop's  permission.  It 
came  into  the  Evangelical  Church-song  through  Luther's 
translation :  — 

Mitten  wir  in  Leben  sind 

Von  dem  Tod  umfangen,  etc. 

187.  Page  285.  .  .  .  hand  mora,  belhim  incipitur  atque 
ex  Christianorum  parte  sancta  mirabilisqtie  vox  "  kyrie,"  ex 
eorum  turpis  et  diabolica  ^'  hui,  hui !  "  frequetiter  auditur. 
Luitprand  von  Cremona,  "  De  Reb.  Imp.  et  Regum  "  Lib. 
II.  c.  9. 

188.  Page  289.  Folchardi  codex  aureus  (Library  at 
St.  Gall)  p.  39. 

END    OF   VOL.   I. 


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